Spearhead: Foundations of Sand
by Darksider
Summary: The ten year war between the Alliance and Goa'uld Union has reached fever pitch. Gryphon, after a year of intense fighting, is about to fall and O'Neill must convince the members of the Alliance to risk everything in order to bring an end to Bast's Union
1. chapter 1

  
  
You know, the problem with writing a series that has become something of a success is that you want the end to be worth it. For taking so long on this, I apologise but its really only because I want you all to feel satisfied with it. (that and the little thing of my finals at college!)

Well folks, I guess I gotta publish this thing at some point. I can practically hear the sharpening of knives from those of you that ran out of patience months ago. I'm still tweaking the latter sections but here's part 1 of 3.

Enjoy.

**Spearhead: Foundations of Sand**

_Chapter 1  
The Prisoner's Dilemma_

** 11:24 ZULU  
June 8th 2010  
Station Freedom, Earth orbit, Sol System**

General Jack O'Neill, Supreme Allied Commander of the Earth Alliance, stood before the  
magnificent splendor of space and stared silently into the depths. Countless stars blazed among  
the heavens and he noted absently that the stars didn't twinkle as they did when viewed from  
the surface of a planet. He vaguely remembered that Carter had explained to him once about  
'atmospheric diffusion' or some such thing and he sighed softly, thinking that he actually  
preferred to them twinkle, rather than the constant shine he was presented with now as he  
viewed them from the observation lounge of the new and improved space station _Freedom_.

The original station called 'Freedom' had been a relatively small and primitive facility, built  
painstakingly over fifteen years by the now defunct NASA, European and Russian Space  
Agencies but that had been with native Earth technology from the late twentieth century. The  
new technologies of the Alliance allowed for the design of a station that made the previous effort  
look like a wooden raft by comparison. Though planetary construction efforts were focused  
primarily on warships and fighters, some spare capacity had been found and dedicated to the  
station's construction, which was still ongoing and showed no signs of stopping. The new  
_Freedom_ was currently an eight hundred metre, heavily armored and shielded, lozenge-shape  
platform that bristled with weapons but also acted as the staging facility and port for incoming  
and outgoing personnel. Built as a space borne command center, she was also built as a  
'monument', commemorating the victory of the Alliance military at the Battle of Sol. The people  
on Earth could look up into the night sky and feel comforted to see the station pass overhead,  
watching over them.

Beyond the massive viewport of the observation lounge, O'Neill turned his attention from the  
distant stars, towards the numerous glittering spacesuited figures and construction bots that  
flitted across the rows of gray warships that floated nearby, fresh from the shipyards, and  
smiled. The largest of the new vessels was the latest Alliance carrier, the ENS _Daniel_ _Jackson_.  
The German shipyards in Bremerhaven had set a new all-time speed record for her construction  
and she was currently undergoing final yard trials in readiness for its official launch next week as  
the flag vessel for Second Fleet.

O'Neill smiled. Danny would have loved having a ship named after him. Almost as much as I  
would have liked to have annoyed him about it, especially considering the grief he gave me  
when Thor named his ship the 'O'Neill'.

As the memories rolled over him, his eyes fell on a swarm of space-suited engineers working on  
a nearby group of ships. The finishing touches were also being added to the first squadron of  
the brand-new _King_ _William_ class heavy cruisers. A new design from the new Bureau of Ship  
Design, or BuShips as it was coming to be called, the highly advanced _King_ _William's_ were built  
to bolster the long-suffering battleships of the Alliance Navy. The _Ares_ class battleships were all  
too often forced to close with an enemy vessel instead of doing what they were designed to do,  
which was providing long range fire support. The cruisers themselves were pure assault  
vessels, lacking the fighter complement and material stores of a battleship and massing little  
over half as much, meaning that they could be built in effectively half the time and yet, thanks to  
a handful of recent innovations, they carried very nearly more firepower, armour and shielding  
than the _Ares_ class battleship itself.

With the addition of the Tollan to the Alliance, they had been more forthcoming with their  
technologies now that Earth and the Alliance was closing the technological gap anyway and they  
had allowed Alliance scientists access to a range of advanced weapons technology that would  
put them on a par with the Goa'uld. The new _King_ _William_ class cruiser carried eight of the  
'Alliance standard' dual ion batteries but its primary armament was the new 'particle beam  
lance', a powerful Tollan weapon that could slice through a Mothership's hull like butter.

O'Neill couldn't wait to see them in action.

The door to the lounge hissed open and the combat armored guards at the door stood aside to  
reveal a familiar face.

"Teal'c!" O'Neill exclaimed in surprise.

"Greetings, O'Neill." The big ex-Jaffa replied. "You are a hard man to locate these days."

O'Neill glanced at the guards who nodded and left the room. The doors closed with a hiss and  
then they were alone. "Yeah, old buddy, I'm an important man these days, and my watchers  
don't like to advertise my presence, especially since that assassin came close to getting Carter  
last month."

"Indeed." Teal'c replied solemnly.

For the most part, the war between the Alliance had been fairly overt, with very little in the way  
of subterfuge except for a few strikes against Separatist forces by Spearhead teams disguised  
as Union Jaffa. These strikes had generated intense distrust between the two rival Goa'uld  
groups but they had only been necessary in the beginning, once the reprisals and counter-  
reprisals had begun, O'Neill had called off the strikes and stood back, letting the internecine  
warfare take on a life of its own.

However, since the defeat at Sol, Bast appeared to have stepped up the low-intensity warfare  
and used the Goa'uld ability to take a host for maximum effect. More than one dead Alliance  
trooper had been found trying to infiltrate back into allied circles. The most recent of which had  
actually gotten close to killing Sam as she visited the Scientific Support Division on Earth,  
spending some time with the department heads, overseeing the various developments made to  
date. Her bodyguards were successful in their defense of her life but three of the five guards  
had died in that short but brutal firefight on the outskirts of Boulder.

Alliance Intelligence went to straight to DefCon 1 that day and the spy war suddenly shifted into  
top gear.

O'Neill, pushing thoughts of assassins and intrigue aside, smiled broadly at seeing his old friend  
again. "Where's that old reprobate, Master Sergeant Booth?" Usually, wherever one turned up,  
the other was never far behind.

It was Teal'c's turned to smile. "The Master Sergeant is down on the surface, visiting his sister  
and her family. We arrived this morning on the cruiser Budapest from Fort Graham."

Fort Graham was one of the handful of strategic military outposts of the Alliance. The fourth of  
seven planets, in a system 8,000 light years from Earth, had a small population of humans that  
had been long forgotten by the System Lords. The people of that world were simple farmers  
with little knowledge of the world beyond their fences and the Alliance had been hesitant to  
move in on them. The decision was made for them though, especially with General Directive 3  
to stay their hand politically, at least, and so the Navy, needing a presence in the strategically  
vital location of the Galaxy, had settled on the far side of the planet's moon, away from the eyes  
of the natives thus satisfying the Alliance Council directives. As a practical matter, the airless  
moon with its shallow gravity well made for a better base anyhow.

"And for what purpose are you onboard the _Freedom_, O'Neill?" Teal'c asked a moment later.

O'Neill shrugged expansively. "I sure you know, the entire Council is meeting on Sintesia in a  
next week, to deal with the 'official' amalgamation of the Tollan and the Adenans into the  
Alliance."

Teal'c nodded silently and O'Neill continued with his explanation. "Tollana's sun has decided to  
play up and an unusually severe solar storm has erupted and is denying the Tollan Stargate  
access for at least a week and since it would be bad form to miss the first meeting of the  
Summit, Chancellor Althin is coming here by ship and using our Gate to get to Sintesia. The  
place is so far out on the Rim, it'd take even the Tollan a good two weeks of hard travel to get  
there. I want to meet with him before we hit the surface. There are some things we need to  
have a chat about."

"Project Wraith." Teal'c replied blandly.

O'Neill's eyes widened and he looked around the empty room automatically. "_Jeez_-us, Teal'c!  
Where in the hell did you hear that name? I was only briefed on the damned thing two days  
ago!"

Teal'c's smile could have given the Mona Lisa a run for her money. "I wrote the original  
proposal that was passed to General Stuart. We decided it was best if my name was left out of  
it. Some elements in the Alliance government are still leery of a Jaffa, even a Shol'va, amongst  
their ranks."

At hearing the last remark, O'Neill became dark and angry. "Tell me who's stupid enough to be  
suspicious of you and I'll throw them into the nearest wormhole to Sohag!"

Teal'c shook his head. "Forget about it, my friend. Their opinion matters little to me."

Taking a deep breath, O'Neill made a mental note to keep an ear out for these particular idiots  
and then returned to the subject of that little known, highly classified report. "So you wrote  
'Wraith', huh?"

"Indeed." Teal'c replied. "It offers significant tactical and strategic advantages that we would  
be foolish not to develop, especially since Bast has begun to deploy Iris technology on more  
important worlds."

O'Neill grunted in acknowledgement of the point. Alliance Stargate operations had been  
severely hindered by the Union equivalent of the SGC's Iris. Though the technology was not that  
hard to develop, no Goa'uld had ever seemed to bother with the device for their Stargates.  
Until, of course, Bast captured the Stargate on Gryphon. The general assumption was that the  
Jaffa's position on Gryphon was tenuous at best, and having an obvious weak spot like an  
unsecure Stargate wasn't wise, especially because of weapons like the that 'Paveway' system  
could wreak serious havoc through an open wormhole. Regardless of her motives, Bast had  
utilized the Gryphon Iris and then proceeded to copy it and deploy it on key industrial worlds in  
the Union.

The Spearhead Assault teams were particularly sore about this and would relish any opportunity  
to remove this obstacle from their path.

"Then you can join me for this meeting and help me persuade Althin to shake some of his  
resources loose for the project." The general's smiled dimmed slightly. "I only wish Jonas  
wasn't on Gryphon, we'd move a lot faster on this if we had his input."

The big ex-Jaffa looked at O'Neill steadily. "Have we had any word from Gryphon?"

"None." O'Neill replied quietly. "Hek'at has the system locked down tight. We haven't been able  
to sneak anybody in or out since Bast introduced that sensor/jamming satellite network. When  
we go in, we're going to need to find a way to neutralize it, one way or another."

"And what of the preparations to attack Gryphon and Sohag?"

O'Neill winced. "I've managed to convince the military chiefs but there's a growing number on  
the Alliance Council that are opposed to attacking Sohag. They're willing to liberate Gryphon but  
they feel attacking Sohag is far too ambitious, reckless even."

Teal'c studied his old friend carefully. "You do not sound entirely against their views."

"I'm not." O'Neill replied flatly. "That's the hell of it. Everything they're saying has merit." He  
looked up at the massive ex-Jaffa. "Am I being too ambitious, Teal'c?"

"Your military chiefs do not appear to think so." Teal'c replied.

"But they're good, aggressive soldiers, Teal'c, they're inclined to aggressive solutions. Part of  
my job is to temper their enthusiasm. If we risk it all at Sohag, we can cut ten years off the war  
but if we fail, we would add ten years, maybe lose everything…"

In the silence that ensued, Teal'c's voice softly spoke out. "I remember when I was First Prime  
to Apophis. We were to collect hosts for the Goa'uld from the local population. I moved among  
the slaves, picking out the healthiest, the strongest when I came across a man who did not look  
like the rest. He did not look beaten or defeated. His eyes shone with a defiance I had not seen  
in many years."

O'Neill looked out at the stars but said nothing.

"I remembered thinking that this man would never be reduced to a slave, he would be nothing  
but trouble, that he had dedicated himself to nothing less than the extinction of the Goa'uld and I  
was fully prepared to execute him on the spot."

"What happened?" O'Neill asked quietly.

"He asked me to join him."

A soft chime rang through the observation lounge and a female voice emanated from the hidden  
speakers. "Krupskaya to General O'Neill, the Tollan vessel _Ether's Pride_ just dropped out of  
hyperspace and is on a least time approach to Freedom, E.T.A, fifteen minutes."

The two soldiers, one who would never forgive himself for the death of a child and one who  
would never forgive himself for the death of millions, silently met each others gaze.

O'Neill nodded his thanks to Teal'c. "Thank you, Colonel. Meet me in Bay 1, O'Neill out." The  
General replied out loud, decisively. "Come on, Teal'c, lets go grab Althin and see if we can't  
get some goodies for you and Master Sergeant Booth to play with."

** 16:00 ZULU  
June 15th 2010  
Imperial Palace, Edo City, Gryphon**

Anne of the Sword, Queen of Gryphon, stood out on her 'office' balcony overlooking the city of  
Edo and cast her thoughts back to almost a year ago, when she had stood on this balcony and  
listened to General Tadeshi Roberts inform her of the impending Goa'uld invasion of her world.  
Now she looked out over the city and tried to ignore the crackle of the canopy shield as it  
reacted with high-altitude static. She tried to ignore the rumble of artillery and the crackling of  
cannon fire in the distance. She tried to ignore the heavy dust content in the atmosphere from  
the continual orbital bombardments that kicked up megatonnes of dirt, which took weeks to drift  
back down. She tried to ignore the screeching Sabre fighters that screamed past, flying low on  
patrol under the canopy shield, not doubt on an intercept of the continual Death Glider probes.

She was so tired of it all but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't ignore any of it.

"Your Majesty."

Anne turned away from the skyline to the two figures sat in front of her desk. General Tadeshi  
Roberts looked at Anne with slight concern at her woolgathering during his briefing while, the  
other man, one of his senior commanders, General Tyler, sat patiently.

"I'm sorry, Tadeshi, what were you saying?" Anne replied contritely and sat down behind her  
desk, forcing her mind to focus on the General's words.

Roberts sighed softly. "I was saying, ma'am, that our people have performed magnificently.  
They've fought longer and harder than our most optimistic projections, and I'm proud of each  
and every one of them, but…" and he hesitated.

"But what?" Anne asked softly.

Roberts grimaced. "We're almost done for, your majesty. We're fought out."

General Tyler's face twisted as he heard the admission but made no noise of disagreement.  
"Your Majesty, we've been fighting for over a year now and we've been doing magnificently but  
in the past month, we've lost eight of the twenty two 'Sanctuary Cities' to Hek'at. That's more  
territory, troops and equipment than we lost in the first ten months of this war combined."

Anne bit her lip in a nervous fashion. "Why now?"

General Roberts picked up the conversation. "Fatigue. Our troops are tired ma'am. Hek'at's  
attacks have been constant but he has the advantages of numbers and it's beginning to tell,  
despite the traditional advantages of a defender. While we have nearly a million men and  
women under arms, spread across the sanctuary cities, Hek'at has around three million Jaffa on  
Gryphon, and although we've bloodied their nose on more than one occasion, he's been rotating  
his damaged formations with fresh units from Sohag. That ability to stand down entire divisions  
is beginning to pay dividends for him. Our people are tired from the constant fighting and soon,  
maybe less than six months, the only places we'll be effectively holding will be the capital, Edo  
and the city/shipyards of Manticore, the rest will have collapsed from sheer exhaustion if nothing  
else."

"And we can do nothing?" The Queen asked in a desperate appeal for some slim hope.

Tyler cast an urging look at his superior.

General Roberts glanced back at Tyler and gave a small nod of surrender. "We have a plan.  
We can't defeat the Jaffa alone, so we need the rest of the Alliance but since Bast developed  
those high-intensity, cascade jammers, we've not been able to get a communication signal out  
of the system, especially since they began to alter our sensors systems as well."

Anne frowned heavily. She knew all this from previous briefings and they had never mentioned  
a way to defeat the jamming before. The Gryphon army had spent the most of the past year  
operating in a static filled environment and their electronic countermeasure teams had learned a  
great deal about Bast's satellite-based jammers and had cobbled together several devices that  
actually had a more than even chance of defeating the jamming successfully (at least on a short  
range scale). Unfortunately, Gryphon lacked the resources of the Alliance Scientific Support  
Division to develop the technology any further.

_Historical Note – The planet Gryphon hadn't had time to be fully integrated into the Alliance  
before the Goa'uld Union invaded and as such, implementing much of the Alliance's basic  
infrastructure had been neglected in order to bring Gryphon's defensive and manufacturing  
capabilities up to Alliance par as quickly as possible._

General Tyler seemed to read her thoughts. "We still can't defeat the system-wide jamming  
but, due to the dire circumstances, we believe its time to try and get a courier out of the system  
with everything we've learned to date from fighting the Jaffa and an appeal for help from  
O'Neill."

Now that option Anne did remember from the briefings. The cost of fighting past the Goa'uld  
blockade had always been prohibitively high and the fact that her military chiefs were suggesting  
it now as a viable option told her how bleak the situation had truly become.

"When would you want to do this?" Anne asked slowly.

"Fifteen days from now." Tyler replied decisively. "For the past year, Hek'at has rotated his  
Motherships between here and Sohag on a long but predictable cycle. He always waits for a  
fresh Mothership to arrive before dispatching his most depleted vessel back for repairs and  
replenishment. The next changeover is expected in seventeen days and we think it best to try  
the operation before a fresh crew arrives in system. It'll take us two weeks to get everything  
ready without alerting the enemy to our intentions."

Anne nodded, easily seeing the logic to the argument and seeing no plausible reason to delay,  
despite the massive loss of life that would occur.

"Proceed." She ordered gravely.

General Tyler left his superior to confer with her majesty while he immediately began to put his  
brainchild into operation. As he walked out of the Queen's office and out of the antechamber, a  
group of Gryphon Army and Air Corp officers fell in behind him. Without breaking his stride,  
Tyler began to pass out orders to his people.

"Commander Tetsuo, I want you and your staff to go over the Order of Battle for Operation  
Breakout once more. I want one more evaluation of the minimum force levels necessary to  
ensure a breakout without crippling our defence forces here on the surface. Getting the word  
out won't do us much good if we leave the door open for Hek'at to come in and finish us off in a  
single strike."

Tetsuo nodded grimly and broke off from the impromptu parade of high-ranking commanders.  
An OrBat force level review was no small task and he had little time to complete it.

"Commander Wade, you're going to head to the Manticore city-shipyards as we discussed. Take  
Tetsuo's refined OrBat with you and make sure her air wings know precisely what is expected of  
them. They'll be no unrestricted dogfighting in this op. Everything relies on a series of strict,  
disciplined maneuvers."

"Aye, sir." Wade replied with a grin, knowing what was coming next.

Tyler didn't disappoint. He came to a halt and looked over his assembled officers with a gimlet  
eye. "What do we say about improvisation, people?"

"It only works when planned in advance!" They all chorused in reply.

A smattering of laughter came from the personnel in the corridor and from the officers  
themselves. That was one of General Tyler's favorite axioms and he never failed to bring up at  
least twice a week.

Tyler stifled his own grin after a moment and fell serious. "Alright people, staff meeting at  
19:00, tonight. You brief the troops tomorrow and we spend the next twelve days assembling  
everything for the strike for at least a day before we go in."

The group of officers murmured their acknowledgement and broke up into small groups, each  
conferring with other officers no their roles in the op.

Tyler nodded in satisfaction and headed off to see Brigadier General Scott of the SGC's Rapid  
Reaction Force. He would probably have information he would like to see included in the data  
package that a lot of equipment and lives were going to be spent getting to the rest of the  
Alliance.

** 11:54 ZULU  
June 17th 2010  
Sohag System Asteroid Belt**

Bast, System Lord, scientist, revolutionary and nominal leader of the Goa'uld Union, stood in  
front of the command throne, on the bridge on the 'War Hammer', as her scientists conferred  
silently around the main console. "I assume that since you requested my presence, you do not  
intend to make me wait an eternity for you to actually show me something!" She bit out,  
scathingly.

The two lead Goa'uld scientists, long-time associates of Bast since her rise to power, glanced at  
each other with concern. Bast herself was a scientist, and she had always shown a scientist's  
patience due presentations and experiements but as of late, she had been far more reactionary  
and hostile and the lead scientists berated themselves silently for forgetting that.

"My apologies, my Queen. We are now ready to begin the test of the new weapon." Fal'khan,  
the senior scientist announced firmly.

"Proceed." Bast acknowledged imperiously.

Fal'khan nodded and turned to his associates. "Order the Test Wing to advance!"

Floating serenely nearby, eight udajeets powered up their engines and suddenly accelerated  
away from the massive 'War Hammer'.

A million kilometers in the path of the udajeets floated a lone al'kesh. The Jaffa at the controls  
of the al'kesh noted the advancing udajeets and, making a silently prayer to his God, Bast, he  
pressed a button on his console.

Underneath the mid-range bomber, a hatch opened up and a small sphere, about two meters in  
diameter was ejected away from the small vessel. Almost immediately, it rotated swiftly,  
seeking its target and orienting itself before accelerating furiously towards the advancing  
udajeets.

Bast watched the display with rising interest.

Fal'khan sighed slightly. "I regret that we are unable to match the range of the Tau'ri missiles  
completely, for we are currently unable to build a drive unit small enough to fit the tash'khat's  
specifications and yet have enough endurance to make the weapon practical."

Glancing at the computer readings, Bast gave a small sound of agreement. "Still, you've  
achieved what, eighty-five percent of the Tau'ri weapon's effective range? That's enough to  
even the odds immensely."

The small tash'khat sphere screamed furiously towards the udajeets who began to maneuver  
furiously, standard procedure against incoming Tau'ri missiles.

Inside the sphere's crystal computer brain, sensor data suddenly correlated with programmed  
requirements and a connection closed. The weapon armed itself, panels across the spherical  
surface folding back and numerous spikes protruded outward.

The udajeets, jinking from side to side, successfully avoided being hit by the tash'khat but as it  
passed through the center of their formation, it exploded.

Erupting outwards, the spikes each headed towards a targeted udajeet. The spikes quickly  
closed the distance but just before impact, they themselves exploded into small flechettes, very  
similar to the Tau'ri missiles, each shard less than fifteen inches long.

Seven of the eight udajeets were hit by dozens of flechette shards, their shields barely stopping  
any of them, and they simply blew apart.

"Seven of the Test Wing drones destroyed." A Jaffa reported.

On the 'War Hammer', Bast smiled and Fal'khan nodded in satisfaction. As you can see, my  
Queen, we've managed to duplicate the Tau'ri weapon in our own unique way. As you are not  
doubt aware, small, sharp objects that travel within a specific speed envelope are able to  
penetrate all current shield technology. As the Tau'ri have been able to penetrate our shields on  
the udajeets, we can now penetrate the shielding on their ships. Each udajeet can carry two  
tash'khat missiles, an al'kesh carries eight."

"You are sure the tash'khat will work on Tau'ri shields?" Bast wondered idly. She was pretty  
sure it would if she remembered the specifics of shield technology correctly.

Fal'khan nodded. "All races that use shields generate them in the same way. Oh, form and  
function alters between race and purpose but the physics of generation and the inherent  
limitations of those universal physics remains the same. To date, shield penetration can only be  
achieved by small flechettes which are effectively useless against ship-grade armour, hence its  
limited application to fighter combat. Of course, massive amounts of energy can bring shields  
down just as well, it only takes a little longer." The scientist concluded.

Bast grinned in agreement, her old 'self' coming to the fore, if only for a little while as she dealt  
with science and technology, her original love before she set out on the path of conquest.

"Excellent, Fal'khan, begin full scale production of the tash'khat missile immediately and co-  
ordinate with Hek'at the training of our Jaffa pilots in the use of the weapon."

"As you command, my Queen." Fal'khan replied humbly and with immense satisfaction.

Bast left the bridge and gracefully walked back to her quarters, two Jaffa of her Praetorian  
Guard leading the way and two bringing up the rear.

"Was your new toy successful?" A voice called out with biting sarcasm.

Coming to a gradual halt, Bast counted out a suitable pause and turned to face the one who had  
spoken as her Jaffa guards fell into place along the wall. "Of course the test was successful,  
Lord Kiptakanae. Though I had little hand in designing the tash'khat, I trained the engineers that  
did. I was completely confident of success."

"Dream up all the fancy toys you wish, my Queen…" Kiptakanae sneered. "…they won't prevent  
your precious First Prime and his 'oh so superior' Jaffa from being beaten by the Tau'ri once  
more."

Though their relationship had become cold of late, Bast still felt her protective instincts for Hek'at  
fall into place. "Do you have anything useful to say, Lord Kiptakanae or was this entire meeting  
orchestrated so as to allow you to insult our Jaffa and their First Prime, who have won as many  
battles as they have lost." She replied subdued but dangerous intent.

Recognizing her rising irritation, the other System Lord inclined his head in vague  
acknowledgement, an inch too deep so as to leech all respect from the gesture, and walked  
away, leaving Bast acknowledging to herself that Kiptakanae wasn't such an idiot after all and  
could understand a threat when one presented itself.

Her heart twisted as she thought of Hek'at once again before she almost snarled and forced her  
emotions down, resuming her walk back to her quarters.

The Jaffa silently fell into place, the rearmost two sharing a look as they continued on their way.

** 10:11 ZULU  
June 24th 2010  
Conference Room 2, Spearhead**

Brigadier General Carter sighed heavily as she read the contents of the folder in front of her.  
Around the conference table, Carter, her 2IC, Colonel DeSoto and the CO of SG-Alpha, Colonel  
Bannon were going over the next round of scheduled attacks upon various assets of the Goa'uld  
Union.

"That's a real hard target, Rachel…in every sense of the word." Carter announced after  
finishing the proposal.

Colonel Rachel Bannon raised an elegant eyebrow. "The only way to hurt Bast is to hits the  
things she values the most." She replied calmly. Though Bannon was the senior Assault Team  
leader, a twenty-year veteran, feared and respected throughout the Stargate Assault Corp, she  
also had catwalk model looks that made most people weak at the knees.

Carter glanced at DeSoto who grimaced as he took a quick look at the proposal again. "Colonel,  
this base is one of Bast's key command and control facilities on the Union/Separatist frontline. I  
know, that's exactly what makes it a good target but it has a garrison of almost thirty Legions, at  
least four defensive belts around the base and, let's not forget, the eight echelons of Scorpions  
and five wings of Death Gliders!"

DeSoto pointed at the report accusingly. "And which infantry division would you like to join you  
on this suicide strike?!"

"The Spartans." Bannon announced calmly.

"No way!" DeSoto spat out. "Those guys are in enough trouble as it is!"

Carter placed a hand on DeSoto's arm and the man visibly tried to get a grip on his temper.  
Bannon seemed to have a way of getting under his skin like no other person could. Her  
aggressiveness was an asset in the field but it was uncomfortable for some at other times.

"Colonel…" Carter began hesitantly. "…The 'Spartans' are considered by Command to be rather  
loose and unreliable when it comes to following orders, why would you want them backing you  
up on this highly risky mission?"

Bannon frowned slightly. "Ma'am, that's the rear echelon types talking. I know that you and  
General O'Neill don't see them that way which is why they still exist as a unit and weren't  
disbanded years ago…"

"What about PX-901, Colonel?" DeSoto interjected hotly. "They disobeyed a direct order to  
withdraw and instead pressed their attack and received almost fifty percent casualties for their  
trouble."

Bannon knew that DeSoto wasn't like the rear echelon types and that his concern about the  
Spartans was genuinely because of their dislike of authority and willingness to accept horrific  
casualties to get the job done. These were, however, exactly the kind of people she needed to  
accomplish her mission. "Colonel, they achieved their objective. Had they withdrawn when they  
had been ordered to, the heavy casualties they had already sustained by that point would have  
been meaningless. I need people with that kind of steel."

_(Unit History File – 52nd Assault Regiment a.k.a 'The Spartans' – One of the first units formed with the birth of the  
Alliance Ground Force, the 52nd, led by Brigadier General Foster was at the forefront of almost half a dozen major  
ground fights with Union forces in the space of a year. It was one of the earlier assaults that saw them inserted  
near to their target by assault shuttles, allowing them to destroy a heavily fortified Union mining compound and  
liberate almost eleven thousand slaves. The Goa'uld fleet, however, had rallied and counterattacked during the  
middle of the ground assault; Foster was franticly ordered to pull back for extraction. This was before his troops  
had managed to secure the compound and round up the slaves. Foster point blankly refused and continued with  
the assault. Despite have almost three thousand troops on the planet, the Alliance Admiral had no choice but to  
retreat from the system under fire from the Goa'uld Fleet, leaving the 52nd and two other Assault Regiments  
stranded on the Union world, without support and almost fifty miles from the Stargate. Undeterred, the then-  
Colonel Foster the regiments and the slaves towards the Stargate that was deep in the mountains. Finding a  
natural bottleneck in the treacherous canyons, Foster and the 52nd dug in and held off almost twelve times their  
number in Jaffa for three days, buying enough time for the other regiments to get the liberated slaves through the  
Stargate. For their incredible feat, the 52nd earned the nickname, the 'Spartans' who in Ancient Greece performed  
a similar victory. Since then, Foster and his Spartans had taken every hard target they could and succeeded,  
sometimes where other units had failed. Unfortunately, the Spartans had become rather relaxed with the chain of  
command outside of their own unit and it had swiftly given them a reputation of being loose cannons. Despite this,  
they continued to get the job done which was probably why Alliance Command kept them together.)_

In the ensuing silence, Carter studied the younger woman steadily. "I'm sorry, mission denied,  
Colonel." She announced to Bannon's obvious dismay.

"May I ask why?" Bannon asked with remarkable calm. Admittedly, she had practice at this for  
she was always submitting assault proposals that were too risky or too 'insane'. She did wonder  
when the brass were gonna give her an opportunity to slip the leash and wreak some serious  
carnage upon the Union. She had thought that 'the' Brigadier General Samantha Carter, of the  
legendary SG-1, might be more pro-active that some of the other armchair generals but it  
appeared that the time she had spent behind a desk had finally gotten to her.

Carter grinned. "Cause I think this is a perfect plan for when we go in against Wakazi."

Or not. Bannon thought almost guiltily.

"General!" DeSoto cried out in protest.

Carter raised her hand, cutting her 2IC off. "I'm sorry, Colonel, but we haven't come with an  
effective way to take Wakazi back yet and this mission outline is the best idea yet."

DeSoto sighed heavily. "Even so, Wakazi's defences are several times what that Frontal  
Command base had deployed…Hell, we help build half of it! SG-Alpha and the Spartans could  
never hope to take the planet by themselves."

"No." Carter agreed, "but they might be enough, using Bannon's outline plan, to take the the  
core of the base and the Stargate, allowing us to bring in the orbital assault while their  
distracted by the attack at their center." She finished with a quiet smile.

Satisfied that the situation was decided, Carter placed the proposal to one side and picked up  
another report. "I have a request here from the Sintesian Ground Force Commander. He has,  
through Alliance Intelligence, located the one of the base of operations from which numerous  
raids have been launched against their colony world. As you can imagine, he would like this  
base destroyed."

The other two soldiers picked up their copies of the report and flicked through the outlined plan.  
DeSoto, still smarting over the inclusion of the Spartans, stirred slightly when he reached the  
order of battle. "General, all the ground units detailed to this raid are Sintesian."

Carter shrugged. "You know as well as I that multi-species strike missions are still relatively  
rare. The only real mixed unit we have is the 111th Heavy Infantry defending Spearhead, and  
they're mainly garrison troops."

DeSoto nodded in understanding but continued with his point anyway. "Yeah, but the initial  
phase of this op calls for a 'special op' infiltration of the Jaffa base and, no disrespect to the  
Sintesian Ground Force, but the bears aren't exactly the most stealthy soldiers I ever met, you  
know?"

A small smile appeared on Sam's lips but she suppressed it sternly before it had a chance to  
blossom. "Point taken, Colonel, what do you have in mind?"

It was DeSoto's turn to shrug. "We've gotta have at least one or two spare special forces units  
lying around…"

Colonel Bannon was nodding in agreement as she glanced over the plan once more. "I've  
worked with a certain Polarian ground unit that would be perfect for the infiltration op. Those  
little bastards are the most natural special op soldiers I've seen."

Carter smiled at the Colonel's coarse words but respectful manner while she considered the  
proposal. "Write up your proposed alterations, Rachel, and take a quick trip to Sintesia. We  
need to increase interaction between the various services so go see the Ground Force  
Commander yourself. His Alliance grade is A-4, which makes him a Major General equivalent;  
so act accordingly, especially since the Alliance Grand Council is in session this week. Touch  
base with Shiv and the Office of Protocol about procedure, just so you don't start a war." Carter  
added with an impish smile.

Bannon affected a wounded look and DeSoto hid an honest smile, his first since the meeting  
began, behind his hand.

** June 25th 2010  
Dal'cor Shipyards, Union Core Territories**

Hek'at looked out over the six half-completed Hat'ak class Motherships and suppressed a sigh  
that filled the observation dome. The Jaffa were working the subjugated yard workers hard and  
production had risen to new levels. Sabotage had risen to new levels as well, in response to the  
increasingly harsh pace Bast was forcing upon them. Dal'cor was an old world, its people having  
been under the thumb of the System Lords for over five hundred years, their civilisation geared  
entirely towards the production of Motherships, al'kesh and udajeets. The fact that rebellion  
was fomenting among a people as thoroughly suppressed as the Dal'corians, spoke volumes of  
the harshness of Bast's newfound attitude.

"Hek'at…"

Hek'at schooled his features into impassiveness and turned to face the person who had spoken.  
"Hello, Ok'ran."

The Jaffa Second, Ok'ran, grinned wryly. "Our old Master would have had your neck if he had  
seen you standing there with your back exposed to an open door."

Shaking his head in amusement, Hek'at laughed out loud. "Ahhh, if I'm not safe among my  
Jaffa, I don't deserve to be First Prime!" Looking askance at his old friend, Hek'at remembered  
the old, simple days when he was but a Jaffa of the Legions, and not First Prime. "What brings  
you here Ok'ran?"

The Second shrugged lightly. "The weapon factories have been churning out the new designs  
Bast has been providing us. We now have enough to begin full-scale training exercises with. I  
want you permission to take four wings out and practice using the new missiles."

A simple enough request, Hek'at thought. "Approved." He replied out loud.

Ok'ran turned to leave but hesitated for a second. "Hek'at…the men are…unsettled."

Hek'at sighed internally but let no sign of his frustration reach his face. He had known this was  
coming, ever since the regular report from Sohag filtered in this morning.

As the First Prime remained silent, the Second frowned deeply. "Hek'at, our lives belong to  
Bast, our faith in her is unswerving, yet she too has a duty, to expend our lives in pursuit of her  
glory, not because she is simply frustrated!" Ok'ran's voice had risen steadily and he was almost  
shouting by the end. Breathing deeply, he tried to get a grip on his anger.

Hek'at, for his part, merely watched his old friend steadily. He had felt a similar burst of anger  
when he had read the daily update from Sohag first thing this morning. Apparently, two of the  
Jaffa in Bast's Praetorian Guard were a minute late forming up for her escort. Bast had  
summarily executed them on the spot. Now from Lord Yu, or the long dead Apophis, this would  
have barely raised an eyebrow, but the Jaffa under Bast had been given extraordinary freedom  
of thought and of action for over twenty years, especially of late when new training and tactics  
had been instituted in order to stop the senseless body counts of past battles. Since Bast's  
defeat at the Tau'ri homeworld, she had become harder, more prone to harsh action and the  
effect it was having upon the rank and file among the Jaffa was 'profound'.

He shook his head and sighed heavily. "I don't know what to say, Ok'ran…we're Jaffa. They are  
Gods. The line is clear and things, for good or for ill, eventually change."

Ok'ran grimaced. "Sometimes, change is unnecessary, even unwise. Hek'at, the disquiet  
among the Legions is growing. If you have any intention of returning to Bast, you had best do it  
soon. Only you can turn her from the path she has begun to tread."

Wincing at the near overt mention of a Jaffa rebellion, Hek'at raised his hands in surrender. "I  
understand, Ok'ran, but she'll just send me away again. She's made it fairly clear she doesn't  
want me around for the moment. Besides, I assume you read the rest of that report…?"

Ok'ran nodded, half in acknowledgement of the intentional subject change. "The Tau'ri forces  
have been uncharacteristically silent of late, the reports of their build-up surprises me little."

"Exactly." Hek'at replied. "Things are coming to a head. The failed attack upon their  
homeworld has brought several new races into the Alliance, most notably of which, is the  
Tollan."

The First Prime turned away from the massive viewport and moved over to a small control  
pedestal near the center of the observation dome. Waving his hand across the surface, the  
controls powered up and a large holographic display filled the other half of the dome. A  
representation of the Galaxy floated in mid-air with small coloured areas appearing, denoting  
territories, both allied and hostile.

Ok'ran moved up next to Hek'at, by the console, and growled audibly. "Who would of thought  
those p'tahk would have deigned to get their hands dirty! They have always left the fighting to  
their client races…"

Hek'at gave a feral smile. "I would assume they became more active once they saw that the  
Tau'ri were closing the technological gap far more quickly than they ever anticipated. The  
Tollan have never exactly been the best of friends to the Tau'ri and watching their empire grow  
must have made the politicians on Tollana very nervous, enough so that they decided to join the  
Alliance before the Alliance decided they didn't need the Tollan after all."

Ok'ran nodded in agreement. "You know O'Neill will be coming for us soon." He stated quietly.

Hek'at's lips tightened. "Yes. We have barely begun to replace our losses from the battle above  
the Tau'ri homeworld, while our intelligence indicates that O'Neill has replaced nearly everything  
he lost and, incredibly enough, has even added a new ship-type to his inventory."

"Oh?" Ok'ran replied in surprise. He knew that Tau'ri build-times for their ships were much less  
than for their Motherships, mainly due to their lack of polish and sophistication, but they got the  
job done and he had been trying desperately to streamline construction methods in the  
Dal'corian yards and among the others of the Union, efforts that had so far met with mixed  
results.

Hek'at grimaced. "I sent a couple of fast, cloaked scouts to make recon runs of the Alliance  
systems and we've picked up this new vessel among the Tau'ri fleets." Manipulating the  
console, Hek'at brought up a rough, three-dimensional hologram of the _King_ _William_ class  
cruiser. "We've not seen it at the front yet, so we have little idea of its capabilities but there are  
clear signs of Tollan technology integrated into the vessel."

"They didn't waste much time." The Second commented grumpily.

"Would you?" Hek'at responded in mild amusement. "We have a few new tricks of our own that  
might help rebalance any new surprises they throw at us when then come for Gryphon."

It took several seconds for the casual statement to penetrate into Ok'ran's mind. "Wait a  
minute, we're pretty sure they intend to attack but why do you think they're going to attack  
Gryphon?!"

Hek'at shrugged. "Not so much attack as liberate. They know we're relatively weak at the  
moment and they have to hits us hard before we regain our balance. The only bit of territory  
we own that they covet is Gryphon. Yes, they'll try to retake Gryphon before our new  
construction comes on-line and everything settles into a stalemate once more. Mak'an has been  
doing a good job there but we'd better make this our last stop and head straight for Gryphon.  
There's a Mothership rotation due in a few days and we'll catch a ride with the 'God's Thunder',  
who's heading in."

Nodding absently, Ok'ran studied the glowing markers that denoted fleet dispositions around  
Union territory, and especially around Gryphon. "You'll need to pull a fair amount of ships off the  
line if we're to have enough of a fleet to hold Gryphon."

Hek'at stared intently at the burning red holographic sphere of Gryphon. "So be it."

** Alliance Council Summit, Chamber Of Light, Sintesia**

Every pair of eyes in the high-ceilinged chamber stared at the large green holographic sphere of  
Gryphon.

"Supreme Allied Commander O'Neill has stated his intent to liberate Gryphon on 12 November,  
Earth calendar."

Eyes moved from the holographic display to Admiral Patterson, who stood in the middle of the  
floor in the Chamber of Light, the meeting place of the Alliance Council on Sintesia.

Lord Sir Henry Patterson, Admiral of the Alliance Fleet, met the stares of the Council and smiled  
somewhat ruefully. "Of course, the initial plan was to retake Gryphon and dig in but the losses  
incurred by Bast at the Battle of Sol has encouraged us to undertake a more daring and, we  
hope, completely unanticipated maneuver."

The holographic sphere of Gryphon shrunk to a small blip, set against the backdrop of the  
Galaxy, as another red blip appeared, deep in Union territory that in turn, suddenly grew to fill  
the projection area.

"Sohag." Patterson stated. "Base of operations for Bast and her Union."

A murmur of disquiet rose up out of the assembled Councilors at seeing the fortress planet and  
its web of Motherships and orbital defences. The array of Navy Admirals at the edges of the  
Chamber sat stone faced. It was they who were going to have to go against those defences  
after all.

The Admiral smiled grimly at the response and continued with his briefing. "We lack accurate  
data on the defenses of Sohag but what we do have is…intimidating." He gestured towards the  
hologram of Sohag that began to highlight the various elements of the defenses.

Space stations and orbital weapon platforms were scattered around the system as squadrons of  
Motherships moved about in patrols, presenting any invadier with a moving target. The  
Dhan'hak Class Commandship 'War Hammer', however, sat in orbit over the planet, like some  
oversized sentinel, guardian of the gates, protector of Bast's fortress planet. The powerful  
vessel was crewed by Jaffa totally loyal to Bast and it was the only capital ship Bast allowed in  
orbit, lest some underling System Lord attempt a quick assassination bombardment against the  
Palace.

The diminutive Councilor Lowtru, of Polaris, shook his head in exasperation. "Will there be  
anything left of the fleet, once we take Sohag?"

Admiral Patterson smiled at the Councilors words that assumed that they would be successful in  
their attack upon the Goa'uld Union capital. "Our predicted losses are, of course, high but we  
believe the objective is worth the price. That price, however, would be far less if we can bring  
more support into the Alliance…"

As Patterson's words trailed off, all eyes in the Chamber of Light turned to the group of reptilian  
humanoids that sat in the VIP guest section of the chambers. The Susparti Empire had agreed  
to begin serious diplomatic talks with the Alliance after the Tollan and Adenan joined after the  
Battle of Sol. The Tollan, long-time isolationists were, however, known to most of the space-  
faring races in the Galaxy for their complete disinterest in alliances or exchanges of technology.  
That they would come out of their self-imposed isolation to join the rapidly expanding Alliance  
spoke volumes of the changing times and had done more to begin to change attitudes among  
the more reserved races than years of negotiation by the Diplomatic Corp. Much to Ambassador  
Shiv's simultaneous disgust and pleasure.

The lead representative of the Susparti contingent, Zuuth Maal, inclined her head as a double  
set of eyelids blinked hard under the massive hologram before her. She shifted under her long  
robes and a series of gutteral snarls and hisses emanated from the elongated jaw and snout.  
Less than a second later, a smooth, feminine voice rang out from the translator device hanging  
around her neck.

"You have achieved much to date." Zuuth Maal commented. "I am no fleet expert. I cannot  
comment as to the merits or risks of the action you propose, I simply ask myself if joining your  
Alliance is worth giving up our sovereignty. We have done well against Goa'uld incursions to  
date. I can assure you, that the Susparti populace will not look kindly to being governed from  
Earth or Sintesia."

Patterson winced slightly, he knew a political question when he heard one and he looked over at  
the Russian Premier, Illiana Kutsov, who was the Alliance Councilor for Earth, being the current  
Chair for Earth's World Council. Kutsov opened her mouth to reply when the Entrican Councilor,  
Doman Fadil, stood up in apparent anger.

"Diplomacy aside, Zuuth Maal, I resent the implication the Entrican people are some sort of client  
race to the Terrans or Sintesians! We may not have as powerful a fleet element or ground  
force but, by Kiith, we are our own people!" The Entrican Councilor replied forcefully. His race  
were almost entirely human looking except for more integral ears, a wiry build that bordered on  
anorexic to Terran eyes and a slightly green tinged skin, due to their copper rich blood. Doman  
Fadil's face was taking on a very green colour as blood rushed to his face in apparent anger. "I  
for one think we are overstretching ourselves in attacking Sohag and believe we should settle for  
liberating Gryphon. Sohag can wait until we are stronger."

It was Admiral Marakesh who winced now. Sitting on the sidelines, the Entrican High Admiral  
had gone several rounds with his government and was unable to convince them of the necessity  
of attacking Sohag.

Zuuth Maal looked at Doman Fadil in apparent surprise, although, one could be forgiven for  
anthropomorphizing when dealing with reptilian facial features that really didn't move all that  
much.

"If I have given offense, I will accept challenge in order to facilitate balance between our two  
peoples…" Zuuth Maal began.

Patterson didn't know exactly what the Susparti meant by 'accepting challenge' to restore a  
'balance' but none of the things his imagination was coming up with was good. He didn't see  
any swords or pistols among the Susparti contingent but decided to head off any challenges, just  
in case. "That won't be necessary, Zuuth Maal, but you can clearly see that in the Alliance,  
everyone is given an equal voice and, though this joining of star nations began life as the Earth  
Alliance, I assure you, the label is losing favor rapidly among all member worlds, including my  
own. We are simply the Alliance, where every voice will be heard." He finished rapidly, making  
a mental note for the anthropological department to investigate this 'challenge' response. The  
last thing the Alliance needed was a species that regularly declared duels with members of its  
allied worlds.

Zuuth Maal nodded acceptingly and Patterson gave an internal sigh of relief. "Zuuth Maal, on my  
world, we have a fable known as the Prisoner's Dilemma that has some application here. I  
doubt I could easily explain the people and situations right now but in terms of the Galactic  
situation, it basically comes down to this; two parties are under threat from an outside force, the  
first to act can escape the threat but only by sacrificing the other, whereas the two parties  
working in unison can overcome the threat forever."

"Simply put, Zuuth Maal, we are stronger together, than apart."

The casual 'diplomatic cocktail party' had been in full swing for almost four hours now and  
Brigadier General Samantha Carter was beginning to wish she had gone easier on the mead  
from Hwa'mee, one of the smaller worlds of the Alliance. The fermented honey wine was  
incredibly potent, though one couldn't tell until one had drank enough to saturate one's system, it  
was that smooth.

"You're going to have one hell of a hangover when it's time to depart, tomorrow…" Patterson  
commented wryly, reading her mind as he grinned into his glass of orange juice. He had had  
several glasses of wine earlier but had switched to juice once the social demands had been met.

Carter gave the Admiral a gimlet eye. "I am perfectly capable of handling my drink, Admiral.  
Hangovers are for people of weaker constitutions."

Patterson made a non-committal noise. "Possibly. But as far as I know, alcohol and 'Gate travel  
don't mix well at all. O'Neill once told me a story about SG-1 and SG-3 and a party with the  
natives of some world, P3X-565, I think it was, and you…"

"All lies, I assure you..." Carter interrupted sourly. "Needless to say, I shall be staying on  
Sintesia an extra day or two for important Alliance matters."

The Admiral nodded sagely and scanned the assembled politicians and military officers as they  
talked about anything and everything. To think, ten years ago, he had merely been the senior  
Admiral in the British Royal Navy, a powerful if rather small surface navy. Now, here he was,  
almost 25,000 light years away from Earth, at a cocktail party with almost thirty different  
species, nearly half of which were nowhere near humanoid in form. A prime example of the  
Alliance's diversity was the Lzaal. Commodore Han was currently talking to the Lzaal Councillor,  
Dxin, who for all intents and purposes, looked like a oversized houseplant. The Goa'uld hadn't  
threatened the Lzaal, indeed, the System Lords appeared to be completely ignorant of their  
existence, but then, the snakes can't exactly use plant life as hosts, can they?

Patterson shook his head in amusement and turned back to the commander of Spearhead. "I  
didn't think Kutsov would let O'Neill stay away from this Summit, he is after all the Supreme  
Allied Commander. No disrespect intended, Sam, but you don't exactly carry the same weight…"

Carter frowned in mild residual annoyance at her irrepressible commander. "Yeah, but the  
really important meetings that require the SAC-SGC aren't being held until tomorrow and Jack  
figured he could get away with sending me in his stead until then. When he arrives tomorrow,  
be sure to give him some grief about it."

"Whatever for?" Patterson replied archly. "The man's smart, I only wish I trusted the diplomatic  
skills of my immediate sub-ordinates to send in my place as well."

"That bad?"

The Admiral shook his head. "They're fine strategists, tacticians and soldiers but I guarantee  
that Earth would be at war with half the species in the room if any of them tried their hand at  
diplomacy."

"Ouch, sir." Sam commented wryly. She was about to add to the casual banter when her eyes  
fell on the Susparti ambassador, Zuuth Maal, standing to one side of the room, in deep  
conversation with Councilor Althin and the Councilor Doman Fadil.

"What's your take on the Susparti, Admiral?"

Patterson looked up and followed her gaze towards the conversing trio. "I can't comment on  
them personally, though they seem a bit flighty. Having them join the Alliance would be bloody  
marvelous though. Their Empire spans seven core worlds and five frontier colonies, spread out  
over five hundred light years. They've been fighting the Goa'uld for nearly three hundred years  
and have held on to every bit of territory they own."

Carter nodded. "Bringing them in would be great." She gave a soft sigh. "Sometimes though, I  
get the feeling we're expanding a little too fast. Our relations with each other are still relatively  
fragile. One diplomatic incident could bring the entire house of cards down."

"Possibly." Patterson replied. "We have several things going for us, first among them being the  
threat of annihilation from the System Lords. The prospect of death does concentrate one's  
mind and goals wonderfully."

"Yeah." Carter put her drink down on the nearest table and turned to the Admiral fully. "I'm  
calling it a night, sir."

Patterson nodded agreeably. "I'll see you tomorrow before you leave?"

Carter smiled painfully. "Yes, sir. That Entrican mead is as good as an Iris when it coming to  
stopping someone from using a Stargate."

The Admiral chuckled. "Goodnight, General."

"Night, sir."

_Chapter 2  
Smoke & Mirrors_

** 18:46 ZULU  
June 29th 2010  
Defence Command Centre, Edo City, Gryphon**

General Roberts looked over the rows of technicians, enlisted and officers, sat at their consoles.  
They were all quiet and tense. The last week had been hectic but a strange kind of hectic.  
They had been moving personnel, equipment and aircraft all over Gryphon but they had been  
doing in secret which added about five extra layers of difficulty to any task, no matter how  
simple. It had been stressful, backbreaking work.

But now it was complete.

Roberts glanced at General Tyler, who sat nearby at the secondary command console. Tyler  
gave him a tight smile and a nod and pressed a button on his console that activated an all band  
radio signal. The Goa'uld jamming was still in effect but some of the techniques the Gryphonese  
techs had invented, combined with the powerfull all band signal meant that all the necessary  
units would receive his brief signal.

"All units, Bushido, I say again, Bushido!"

As the general's order went out, every timeline on every combat computer on Gryphon started  
up. In the Command Centre, the dedicated timeline display screen showed the time hack  
moving up to the first marker.

"Unit One is moving out." A voice announced over the speakers.

All the tactical displays showed a squadron of Sabre fighters screaming up and outward from  
the Sanctury City of Hokkaido and into space. The closest patrolling udajeets, altered their  
course to intercept. Within minutes, a dogfight between the two groups had begun.

The time hack passed over another marker.

"Units Two and Three are moving out." The speaker announced.

On the tactical hologram, two larger groups lifted off from two other Sanctury Cities on the far  
side of Gryphon. Both groups were composed of Sabres and Pegasus bombers and their targets  
were two Hat'ak class Motherships patrolling that area of space.

By now, the console operators were talking to each other, calling out contacts and coordinating  
the operation. It was mainly a psychological thing since everybody involved knew the plan  
intimately and the jamming made communications sporadic at best. The effort at  
communications mainly let the pilots know that they weren't alone.

** Mothership 'Fist of the Gods', Wakazi Base, Gryphon**

The Jaffa Second, Mak'an, who was in command of the Gryphon Siege forces during Hek'at's  
absence growled as two new groups of small craft rose up from the surface and headed  
towards the Mothership squadron in Sector 3-19.

His orders were straightforward. Keep the Gryphonese in. Keep the Alliance out. "All ships to  
full alert! Send two echelons of udajeets to suppress that initial squadron of fighters and order  
the 'Blood Axe' to support Squadron 3-19!"

As the Jaffa manning the consoles on the bridge of the grounded Mothership complied with his  
orders, Mak'an sat back in mild satisfaction. The Gryphonese attack would soon be put down  
and…

"Second! A fourth group of fighters and bombers has been detected!"

Mak'an glared at the Jaffa for giving such a useless report. "How many and where?!"

The Jaffa looked up from his console in consternation. "We see at least forty aircraft, eight  
hundred kilometers out, barely a kilometer off the ground, heading right for us!"

"Fek'shoa! Recall echelons 3 and 4! Get them down here now!" Mak'an ordered tightly.

Roberts glanced at the time hack as it passed over the third marker. Less than four minutes had  
passed at this point and now, there were no more markers for at least ten more, at which point  
the timeline branched into four separate choices. This was the trickiest part of the operation.  
The Jaffa in command could do several things and it was his response that dictated the next  
action. They weren't relying on him to do anything in particular, for having a plan that relied on  
the enemy doing a particular thing was always a sure method for disaster. No, the Jaffa's  
response merely dictated the form of the Gryphon forces next move, a move that would come  
in…nine minutes, even if the Jaffa commander made no response at all.

The seconds ticked by as the three groups of fighters and bombers fought tenaciously against  
steadily mounting opposition.

A noise of satisfaction came from a nearby officer. He was stood behind a console operator,  
monitoring the attack upon the command Mothership parked at the overrun Wakazi base. The  
officer turned round with a grim smile on his face. "Sir, Unit Four has cleared the sky of  
udajeets over Wakazi and has commenced an attack on the Mothership."

Roberts nodded calmly and glanced at the tactical display. Another officer looked tensely up at  
him.

"General, the majority of the Death Glider forces in orbit are heading down to Wakazi! Nearly  
two hundred fifty birds."

Roberts winced. Unit Four had taken some losses in the attack and only numbered thirty-six.  
One of his available options anticipated this sort of reaction to his attacks and it was time to try  
some sleight of hand.

"Option Three, Tyler." Roberts ordered.

Tyler nodded and pressed the appropriate commands. Three of the four branches disappeared  
and the time hack crossed over into the remaining timeline and passed the next marker.

"Unit Smoke is heading out." The speakers announced calmly. "All Mirror Units are on hot  
standby."

Unit Smoke consisted of two squadrons of Sabres, escorting the large but fast Royal transport,  
launching from Edo and looking for all the world like an evacuation of the Royal Family. In  
reality, the King and Queen were still in the Palace bunker but the enemy couldn't know that and  
the Royal transport made a mighty tempting target.

The cigar-shaped transport burned ions at a tremendous rate as it accelerated out of the  
atmosphere and headed away from the planet's gravity well. The Sabres kept pace easily and  
their pilots scanned the space around them for enemy Death Gliders.

Mak'an was beginning to get worried. His initial fleet dispositions had ensured that no matter  
which way the Gryphonese forces might try to break the blockade, he would have a Mothership  
or at least an echelon of udajeets in position to intercept.

The problem was that the Gryphonese were hitting his forces hard, throwing so many assets in  
so many directions, he was being forces to strip the blockade of ships to reinforce the initial  
intercepting forces that were steadily being ground away.

The plan was a losing proposition for the Gryphonese of course. Their position was untenable,  
for they lacked the power projection to hold any short-term gains they might secure and they  
were paying a high price for it; but he had a growing suspicion that they were setting him up for  
something else. Something they were willing to pay that price for…

"New contact leaving the capital city! One transport and twenty-four fighters!"

"A transport?" Mak'an responded in surprise. "Show me!"

The tactical hologram disappeared to be replaced with a wire frame image of the Royal  
transport. It was fast, with heavy defensive weaponry and heavily escorted. Clearly someone  
important was onboard and that someone was trying to make an escape.

This was it! Everything else was a feint, a distraction to allow an evacuation of the enemy  
leaders. This could not be allowed! "Have Mothership squadron 5-9 make a short intercept  
jump. I want that transport captured or at the very least, destroyed!"

"Jaffa, kree!" The bridge Jaffa replied.

General Tyler smiled in satisfaction as two Motherships, high above the plane of ecliptic,  
disappear from their sensors, only to reappear seconds later, right in the path of Unit Smoke's  
course out of the system. The Royal Transport began evasive maneuvers as the Sabres  
screamed forward to engage the cloud of Death Gliders that was erupting from the two  
Motherships.

"They've taken the bait, sir!" Tyler called out to Roberts. "And the rest of the blockade force  
has spread out to cover the relocated Motherships but gaps are beginning to appear in their  
net!"

General Roberts nodded grimly. "Order all units to press their distraction attacks home and then  
launch all Mirror couriers!"

"Yes, sir!"

In the primary hanger in the Manticore City-Shipyards, six stripped down Sabres powered up  
their anti-grav units and floated off the bay floor.

Commander Kirsty 'Razor' Stephanovich shifted herself deeper into her seat and ran her eye  
over the displays one last time. Everything looked good. She looked up, out of the cockpit  
towards the control station, high above the hanger. There the Hanger Boss saw all the green  
lights on his repeater displays and nodded in satisfaction.

"Mirror Units, prepare for launch. May light shine in all the dark places you walk." The Hanger  
Boss intoned over the com-link.

Razor smiled at the Gryphon benediction and steeled herself for what was quite possibly the last  
five minutes of her life. Behind her, in a shielded container, sat the data storage unit that this  
entire operation was about. A copy sat in every other Mirror Unit Sabre, multiplying the chances  
of the message getting out.

"Mirror Lead, launch!"

She barely had time to look up before the first Sabre screamed out of the hanger bay and  
immediately shot up into the sky. The second Sabre was hot on its heels, barely clearing the  
hanger entrance before the third Sabre shot forward.

Last in line, Razor took a deep breath, just as the fifth Sabre howled forward…blasting out the  
bay doors…

She slammed her throttles to their forward stops and was rewarded by inertia slamming her  
back into her seat. A small corner of her mind reflected that the inertial dampers actually  
negated 99% of the g-effects she was actually under and had she not be using dampers, she'd  
be nothing but a bio-matter smear against the back of the cockpit.

Her Sabre shot past the doors and into the sky. Pulling sharply on the stick, the nose of the  
fighter went vertical and the sky rapidly darkened. The other five Sabres could been seen  
trailing ahead of her, their ion engines creating five bright stars for her to follow, even as the sky  
around her turned to black and the stars appeared.

"New contacts!" The Jaffa at the sensor station called out.

Mak'an turned from the communication console operator with whom he had been conferring  
with and looked up at the tactical hologram. Six new blips were rising up from the planet's  
surface…fast. "Identify!" He ordered.

The other Jaffa shook his head. "The appear to be enemy fighters but their drive power is  
almost half again the norm and their speed almost double. No energy signatures indicating  
active weapons."

"Scouts." Mak'an concluded flatly. His mind was abuzz. Why where these fast but unarmed  
scouts launching now? What use could six be? Suicide craft?! "What are their projected  
courses?!" He called out with urgency. His engaged Mothership's udajeet compliments were all  
committed and a dedicated suicide craft would be hard to shoot down with a Motherships  
weapons alone.

Instead of replying, the Jaffa simply brought the courses up on the tactical display. Mak'an paled  
as he saw that the courses were nowhere near his Motherships. In fact, they were flying  
straight down, away from the plane of ecliptic, directly towards the equidistant gaps between  
Motherships as the massive vessels had spread out to fill the spaces left open by the  
Motherships stripped from the blockade to intercept earlier feints.

"Recall all udajeets! Intercept those Tau'ri scouts!" He demanded.

Another Second looked up from his console. "But what about the transport? We've almost got it  
turned around…"

Mak'an felt the pressure suddenly increase ten-fold. He was almost positive everything up to  
this point had been a feint so as to allow the scouts to escape but that transport…damn! He  
couldn't take the risk. "Keep that group on the transport! Everything else goes after those  
scouts!"

Alarms began to bleep with increasing urgency as Stephanovich's avionics registered numerous  
echelons of Death Gliders locking on to her Sabre. The other Sabres were now peeling away  
from each other, heading for the gaps around the lone Hat'ak Mothership in this south polar  
sector around the planet. She smiled tightly as the Mothership began to move in one direction  
before turning sharply and heading in another, the Jaffa commander obviously having a hard  
time deciding which of the six couriers to engage.

A new tone sounded as six Death Gliders launched from the hangerbay of that Mothership and  
headed to intercept the rest of the Mirror units as they continued to break for deep space. They  
had to get clear of the gravity well of the planet before they could engage their hyperdrives and  
thought the earlier feints had removed the rest of the considerable Death Glider fleet, this last  
echelon, obviously held in reserve for exactly a situation like this made their mad dash a race.

And it was going to be close. The Death Gliders would enter energy range just before they  
cleared the gravity well. The Jaffa would be able to make exactly one pass before the Sabres  
could jump. Damn, it was going to be close.

"Lead, Six." The crisp voice of her commanding officer called out.

"Six." 'Razor' replied tersely.

"Angle off, Six." He ordered just as curtly.

She shook her head, even though he couldn't see it, even though as she acknowledge his order.  
"Roger, Lead. See you back at the barn."

Typing in a couple of quick commands, her computer generated a new course that angled away  
from the Death Gliders in front of her and the Gliders behind her. It added an extra thirty two  
seconds of flight time before she could jump but it also put her another five seconds out of the  
Jaffa pilots engagement envelope. Being last in line, she was the only plane far enough away  
from either group for it to make a difference.

Unable to shake the feeling of abandoning her friends, she pulled back on the stick and her  
Sabre angled tightly away from the others.

Mak'an watched the single blip fly away from the expanding group of its compatriots and felt his  
emotions sink. The breakaway of six udajeets from the pursuing forces that smoothly turned  
onto a new intercept course with no orders brought a small measure of satisfaction at their  
obvious competence but that still didn't stop him from acknowledging that that fighter was  
probably going to get away.

"Tau'ri fighters entering firing range of the blocking udajeets." A Jaffa announced.

The remaining five Sabres began to swerve from side to side as their raced for their gaps in the  
Mothership line. Unfortunately for Ensign 'Trojan' Wilkes, Mirror 3, the lone Hat'ak had chosen it  
as its target and the relatively massive bulk of the golden pyramid and its oversized charcoal  
colored superstructure interposed itself right where Mirror 3 had planned to make its jump to  
hyperspace. Orange blasts of plasma erupted from the batteries on the Mothership and filled  
the space around the Sabre as 'Trojan' wrenched his fighter into tight, evasive turns.

Inevitably, the plasma blasts bracketed the Sabre and forced it to fly down a channel long  
enough for one of the intercepting Death Gliders to streak in and pump a quick volley of plasma  
bursts into the stripped down fighter. The shields flared, flickered and died, several plasma  
bursts slamming into the reduced armour and ripping Mirror 3 to pieces.

Stephanovich heard 'Trojan' scream as his fighter disintegrated around him and his transmission  
ended abruptly. Pushing aside her remorse, she adjusted her Sabre back onto its optimum  
course and tried to ignore the chatter from the other Mirror units as they were destroyed one by  
one.

Two more Sabres died instantly as the intercepting Death Gliders made their single pass, guns  
blazing. Another one took serious damage to their hyperdrive system and was unable to make it  
to hyperspace and had begun to engage his pursuers while the last Sabre, Mirror 2, had taken  
some damage to his life support systems.

"I'm gonna make the jump anyway…" he called out to 'Razor'. "…a little luck and I might even  
survive long enough. Either way, the Alliance will be able to pick up my fighter and the data."

'Razor' grimaced. It was gonna take over two weeks to get to Alliance territory with the  
hyperdrives on the Sabres and although the life support systems had been seriously upgraded to  
handle such a long term trip, the odds of a damaged system being able to last that long  
were…risky. "Understood. Good luck, 'Wheels'…" She replied just before his engines flared,  
space seemingly twisting around him and with a flash, he shot into hyperspace.

Glancing at the sensor display, she saw the firefights that still raged across the Gryphon system  
and the wreckage from those battles that drifted away into the dark.

"I hope this was worth the price." She remarked sadly. The computer beeped for her attention  
as the gravity well of the Gryphon had faded enough for her to safely engage her hyperdrive. A  
bright flash and her Sabre rattled violently as a series of plasma bursts erupted all around her.

Without hesitation she slammed her throttles forward and jumped into hyperspace.

** Defence Command Centre, Edo City, Gryphon**

General Roberts watched with no little relief as the two surviving Sabre couriers flickered and  
disappeared into hyperspace. The Command Centre let loose a cheer.

"All right, settle down!" General Tyler ordered sternly. "We've still got people fighting up  
there…begin pulling back our units, let's see if we can disengage our ships with a minimum of  
casualties!"

The command staff became serious once more and began to send out new orders, plotting new  
vectors and bringing their people back home.

"We did it." Roberts commented softly, quietly enough so that only Tyler could hear him.

"Aye." Tyler acknowledged as his people returned to their duties. "But the price…"

"Needed to be paid." The senior man added remorselessly. "If we don't let the Alliance know  
how desperate our situation is and get help, we're done for as an independent world." He shook  
his head. "How many did we lose?"

Tyler glanced at his boards, his face grim. "About what we expected. A little more than four  
squadrons of fighters, three of bombers…we lost the Royal Transport as well."

Roberts sighed. "Bring our people home, Tyler. I'll be in my quarters."

Tyler saluted as the General stood up and walked slowly from the Command Center, lost in  
thought.

** 18 hours later  
Hat'ak Class Mothersip 'God's Thunder'**

Hek'at walked onto the bridge and saw Ok'ran already at the main console.

"Arrival in one minute." Ok'ran informed the First Prime.

Hek'at nodded and sat down on the command throne. The seconds ticked by silently until the  
main console beeped twice. "Exiting hyperspace." OK'ran announced.

The 'God's Thunder' shuddered as the hyperspace conduit opened up and decanted the  
Mothership into normal space. A Jaffa at the sensor station frowned and looked up at Ok'ran.  
"Second…?"

"I see it." Ok'ran replied gruffly. Hek'at looked at his friend enquiringly who answer to the  
unspoken question without turning from his console, which he was working furiously. "We  
almost ran into a big chunk of wreckage. It appears to be part of the secondary superstructure  
of a Hat'ak."

"What?!" Hek'at exclaimed.

Ok'ran grimaced as data flashed across his console. "Several Motherships on the perimeter are  
showing signs of damage…the 'Sword of Wrath' appears to be missing large parts of its  
secondary superstructure." He finished with mild irony.

"Incoming signal from the 'Fist of the Gods'!" A Jaffa announced.

"Put Mak'an through." Hek'at replied with building anger.

The face of the Second appeared on the main screen and Hek'at glared at him. "Report!" He  
barked.

"First Prime…' Mak'an acknowledged. "…less than twenty hours ago, the forces of Gryphon  
staged a massive attack on our orbital forces. Their attack was repulsed but two of their  
fighters managed to break through the blockade."

Ok'ran glanced at the First Prime who was quietly seething. "Transmit the records of the battle,  
Jaffa. I will review the action and you had best pray to Bast that I do not find you at fault or you  
will be guarding the most distant outpost I can find by the end of the week."

"Immediately, First Prime." Mak'an replied quickly and cut the connection. Data files begin to  
spill into the ship's computers and Hek'at began to replay the battle on his throne's built in  
holographic display.

In the ensuing silence, Ok'ran left the main console and moved up next to Hek'at, watching the  
small hologram that floated in front of the throne intently. "So they've gotten out." He  
commented heavily.

Hek'at nodded absently as he watched the Gyphonese send wave after wave of fighters out in all  
directions, skillfully drawing Mak'an's forces out of position with a series of feints until the final  
group of scout fighters had made an impressively fast break for deep space. Mak'an had  
redeemed himself somewhat by holding some fighters in reserve that had been responsible for  
eliminating most of the scouts but two had escaped.

"What do you think it was about?" Ok'ran wondered.

Hek'at shrugged. "Could be any number of things. None of which would be good for us."

"What do you intend to do?"

"Retaliate." Hek'at replied absently. "They lost a substantial portion of their remaining forces  
trying to get a message out. No doubt it was a request for help from the rest of the Tau'ri fleet  
but their losses have left several of their sanctuary cities vulnerable. Let us try and take these  
cities before O'Neill arrives. It will mean more commitment of his forces to try and dig us out."

"You think he'll succeed in retaking Gryphon?" Ok'ran asked in surprise.

"It's possible. If he attacks before we can get our new construction on line…" Hek'at replied,  
trailing off grimly. He shook his head. "Regardless, I intend to make it as difficult for him as  
possible. Begin distributing the stores of tash'khat missiles to the other Motherships and begin  
the Jaffa pilots in instruction on their usage. We don't have enough for live fire exercises but dry  
runs will be enough for now."

"What are you going to do?" Ok'ran asked softly.

Hek'at gave a tight smile. "Talk to Bast. Maybe she can spare some ships."

OK'ran's expression showed what he thought of the odds of that happening.

** June 30th 2010  
Fort Khan, Eastern Siberia, Earth**

Colonel Bannon stepped off the ramp of the Orca transport and breathed out heavily in the arctic  
cold. With some amazement she watched her breath glitter and freeze before falling to the  
ground as snow. Master Sergeant Powell, her ever present shadow grunted in mild  
amusement, seemingly unaffected by the biting cold than his was by any other form of  
discomfort. The large figure of Teal'c clumped down the ramp, silently remembering the last  
time he was in this part of the planet, O'Neill had pushed him out of the plane at twenty  
thousand feet. Master Sergeant Booth grimaced as he sank slightly into the snow. He hated the  
snow.

A white suited figure came trudging up to them out of the blinding snow, his face hidden and his  
voice muffled within the heavy fur lining of his hood. "Welcome to Siberia!"

The man in the white suit led them through the howling wind and snow towards a large  
concrete bunker with a heavy metal door. The door opened as they approached and the group  
jogged straight inside, the door slamming shut behind them.

Standing inside a small antechamber, a wave of heat seemed to hit them and Bannon almost  
staggered in shock, her face seemingly to be on fire.

"You get used to the transition. It's good, it tells you your nerves aren't frostbitten." The other  
man announced in the sudden quiet.

Bannon, Teal'c and the two Master Sergeants looked at the man as he pulled down his hood.  
His face was long, all harsh angles and deep clefts like a canyon as if he had been weathered  
over the course of millennia. "Brigadier General Foster, of the 'Spartans'." The older man  
introduced himself.

Colonel Bannon and Master Sergeants Powell and Booth snapped to attention in small confines  
of the antechamber and Foster returned their salute with a quiet smile. Teal'c simply bowed as  
best he could.

"I'm sorry, sir, we didn't expect you to bring us in yourself…" Bannon began apologetically.

Foster waved her off as he began to pull off his thick coat. A row of similar coats hung on a  
rack along the entire wall. "Relax, Colonel. I needed the fresh air and I'm more than a little  
intrigued as to you presence here. Carter was a little short on details."

As Powell hung their coats up, Bannon met the General's gaze. "I have a mission for the  
Spartans, sir."

"When DeSoto told me you had been sent to Siberia, I thought he was exaggerating…" Bannon  
explained wryly.

"Nope." Foster replied with apparent pride in the fact he had been exiled about as far away  
from civilization you could get while still being on Earth. "We're thousands of kilometers from  
practically anywhere decent except for SGC (East). Khabarovsk is only a few hundred klicks that  
way." He added, pointing towards the far wall. "This place was built as a backup facility in case  
the Jaffa secured a beachhead during their invasion. Now it's a hardship post. Officially, we're  
a secondary support unit for Khabarovsk but in reality, we're left out here to our own devices.  
Out of sight and out of mind for the mucky mucks at Headquarters."

Foster had led his four visitors out of the antechamber, past the main security checkpoint and  
into the Main Corridor.

Fort Khan was an almost entirely subterranean base. This only surface elements being the  
landing pad, elevator/hangers, the main entrance and two concentric rings of defense posts,  
surrounding the base. The Main Corridor ran straight for almost a kilometer, with large sub  
corridors branching off every one hundred metres and smaller corridors branching of from  
there. Barracks, stores, gymnasiums, cafeterias, firing ranges, motor pools. Despite being a  
hardship post, the base was lavishly equipped.

A large number of these Forts had been hurriedly constructed around the world just before the  
Goa'uld invasion. Fortunately, the invasion had been beaten off before the Jaffa could breakout  
of their beachheads but these bases had intended to be self sufficient points of resistance,  
should Earth's primary defenses be overrun.

This was Bannon's first time seeing one of these Forts, having spent the majority of the past ten  
years on Spearhead. "This is very impressive, General." She commented as they were led into  
the main conference room, not just talking about the base. The 12,417 men and women, both  
line troops and support staff, of the Spartans had incredibly high morale, were motivated  
and well trained, despite having been essentially exiled for the past six months.

Foster nodded appreciatively at her comment. "We don't like to sit on out butts around here."  
He replied humorously as he sat down with mild fanfare. The others sat down round the table  
as an aide entered and passed out mugs of coffee and sugar.

"So tell me what the Spartans can do for you, Colonel…" As he took a sip from his mug, which  
had a single silver star enameled on it.

Bannon took a deep breath and outlined her plan.

She talked for almost twenty minutes and Foster listened silently throughout. When she  
finished, she swallowed the dregs of her coffee and stared at the General expectantly as he  
stared off into space. After almost a minute, Foster sighed heavily and studied the four soldiers  
before him.

"Colonel Bannon, that has got to be one of the most insane, reckless and suicidal plans I have  
ever heard in my life." He remarked heavily. "But I think its pure genius and Carter was right to  
adopt it for this attack instead of that command center you planned to hit before. Its something  
we can only make work once and Sohag would be the best place to use it." He smiled ferally.  
"Count the Spartans in, Colonel."

Colonel Bannon smiled. Bast was never gonna know what hit her.

_Interlude_

The war had been going on for almost a decade now and as with most things, the pace of the  
war ebbed and flowed. The people involved in the war are generally too caught up to really  
notice such things for they are almost always grateful for the quiet periods whereas inversely,  
they are too busy during the intense periods to not the difference between the two.

The attack on Earth by Bast had been the most intense point of the war so far.

As the capabilities of the Alliance grew, so did the possibilities of increased carnage and  
destruction. The months after the Battle of Sol had been relatively quiet. Both sides recouped  
their losses and prepared themselves for the end game, for, though it may not register on a  
conscious level, the participants in war tend to feel when the turning point approaches, when  
that one battle that could decide the war was near. At such times, both sides become almost  
frenetic with move and countermove in order to tilt that final battle in their favor.

Now, almost five months after that momentous battle around Earth, the players in this great  
game began to move their pieces once more…

** July 6th 2010  
Dal'cor Shipyards, Union Core Territories**

"Three echelons of Death Gliders and a Hat'ak closing in, bearing 249, mark 014!" The sensor  
officer called out. "Designating the Hat'ak 'Hostile 7'

Admiral Kent looked at the display calmly and turned to his new tactical action officer,  
Commander Singh. "Have the _Louisville_, the _Kutsu_ and their destroyer screen move to intercept  
'Hostile 7'."

"Aye, sir." Commander Singh replied.

Third Fleet was fighting its way in-system, trying to get at the Shipyards here, deep in the Core  
Territory of the Goa'uld Union. Three Shal'kra's and six Hat'ak's were nearing completion and  
Admiral Patterson wanted those ships destroyed before they had a chance to be finished.

For nine days, Third Fleet had snuck from system to nebula, evading ever increasing Union  
patrols in order to make a surprise deep strike against a supposedly secure rear area. With a  
little luck, the damage to the Union morale would be more effective than the damage to the  
enemy ships.

"Admiral, 'Hostile 3' has been destroyed and 'Hostile 1' is beginning to fall back with heavy  
damage. We lost the _Orinoko_ and the _Southampton_, though."

"Status of 'Hostile 2'?" Kent inquired emotionlessly. Two destroyers in exchange for a Shal'kra  
was a good exchange rate, no matter how horrific that cold calculation meant in lives lost. The  
Flag CIC shook as the ENS _Ark_ _Royal_ received some long-range fire from a couple of flanking  
Motherships. He eyed their icons on the display but said nothing as Captain Tyler, CO of the _Ark_  
_Royal_, maneuvered her vessel clear and brought up her destroyer screen to cover the big  
carrier.

"'Hostile 2' is holding the line on the right. He's got guts, sir…" The sensor officer replied  
daringly.

Admiral Kent smiled tightly at the officer's remark. "Quite. But his position is untenable since  
the left flank is collapsing." He turned to the Fighter Ops officer. "Major, I want a hole opened  
up to the shipyards."

The Air Force Major nodded and began issuing orders to Third Fleet's squadrons.

A wave of forty-eight Pegasus bombers launched from the _Ark_ _Royal_ as a wing of Sabres,  
already holding position nearby, streaked in against the three Hat'ak's that still tried to hold the  
left flank together.

The Sabres carved a path though a cloud of defending Death Gliders, covering the Pegasus  
bombers as they charged against the three Motherships, pelting them with light ion cannon fire,  
rail gun rounds and flechette missiles. Naquadria enhanced bombs flashed against their  
shielding and as the bombers returned to the carrier, having lost eleven of their number, three  
heavily damaged Motherships drifted slowly, crippled, out of position.

"Order BatCruRon 32 to make a micro-jump to these co-ordinates." The Admiral  
ordered, pressing a series of numbers into the computer.

The _Ares_-class battleships of Battleship Squadron 32 that had stayed back from the line of combat and provided lone-range  
fire support now ceased fire and increased power to their engines. One by one, the three  
battleships, and their cruiser escort, oriented themselves on the Admiral's co-ordinates and, with a twisting of the fabric  
of reality, jumped into hyperspace.

Seconds later they appeared in high orbit of the planet, directly above the shipyards, right at the edge of the planet's gravity well. They had,  
however, something to do first. The damaged Shal'kra class Mothership, 'Hostile 1' had pulled  
back to cover the shipyards while its crew tried to make repairs to whatever systems it could.  
The sudden appearance of three Alliance battleships alongside them had put all their efforts for  
naught.

Three full broadsides fired as one and the Shal'kra-class Heavy Mothership simply exploded.

The battleships re-oriented themselves and their gun batteries turned to face the surface  
shipyards

Heavy Ion cannon bolts pelted the surface installations. The shields protecting the shipyards  
held for several minutes but the fire was as concentrated as it was intense and the shield failed  
in several areas around the shipyard. Ion bolts slammed into the nearly built Motherships,  
destroying months of work and killing hundreds of unfortunate engineers and workers.

"Incoming hyperspace signatures!" A lieutenant called out.

"Number and locus?" Commander Singh demanded.

The lieutenant spent several seconds refining his sensor readings. "Eight Motherships…Hat'ak's,  
I think…they got caught by the seventh planet's gravity well and appear to have been brought  
out prematurely. They're well into the outer system but they'll be here in less the eight  
minutes."

Commander Singh turned to Admiral Kent with a grin. "I guess God does remember whose side  
he's supposed to be on."

"We caught a break with that one, all right." Kent replied. 'Time to wrap this up. Recall all  
fighters! Have the fleet regroup at these co-ordinates and prepare to jump to Withdrawal Point  
Beta!"

"Aye, sir." Singh replied.

Still exchanging fire, Third Fleet turned away from their engagements and headed upwards,  
away from the plane of ecliptic. Fighters and bombers flew back to their ships, the Death  
Gliders that continued to chase them down were blotted out of the sky by data-linked point  
defense from the entire battlegroup.

As the last squadrons returned to the hangers of their respective ships, the Third Fleet finally  
cleared the planet's gravity well and jumped into hyperspace.

The eight Hat'ak's tracked their initial trajectory and made a calculated guess as to where they  
were heading. One by one, the Motherships jumped into hyperspace in hot pursuit but  
regardless of the results of their essentially futile chase, the damage had been done.

Of the three Shal'kra's and six Hat'ak's under construction, all were damaged to some extent,  
some heavily, with one of the Shal'kra's and two of the Hat'ak's totally destroyed. The Jaffa in  
charge of the Yard stared at the destruction despairingly.

Maybe if he could salvage the remaining ships, Bast would kill him quickly and only once.

** July 10th 2010  
Entrica System**

Hek'at stood on the bridge of the 'Fist of the Gods' and exhaled with complete satisfaction.

"The Alliance ships are falling back." A Jaffa announced.

"To the orbital minefields?" Hek'at asked expectantly.

The same Jaffa nodded.

Smiling, Hek'at walked casually back to his command throne. The Dal'cor attack by the Alliance  
had been a stroke of genius and had hurt the Union far more than he would like to admit.

Fortunately, two things had prevented it from being a disaster of monumental proportions.  
Firstly, the latest and largest production run of the tash'khat missile had departed Dal'cor before  
that strike, so there was now more than enough to outfit the majority of the udajeet fleet.  
Secondly, none of the udajeets defending Dal'cor had been outfitted with the new missiles due  
to the yards supposedly 'secure' position, deep within Union Territory.

This meant that the Alliance still didn't know about the missile and thus it could be used to  
maximum effect in a place of his choosing. He had order Ok'ran to send a highly secure  
message to that effect to the rest of the fleet. No one was to use the new missiles until he said  
so.

"Bring the fleet to a position just outside the range of the mines." Hek'at ordered. "And prepare  
for extreme range orbital bombardment."

"Jaffa, kree!"

The Shal'kra-class Mothership and its four surviving escorts glided smoothly into position just  
beyond the firing range of the outermost mines, protecting the planet Entrica.

The Alliance Fleet elements protecting the planet had been taken heavy casualties and had  
withdrawn to the orbital defenses in anticipation of a general assault but Hek'at had no intention  
of driving into the very teeth of his enemy's defenses. Instead, his Motherships diverted as  
much power to their weapons as they could spare and began to fire waves of plasma bursts  
down upon the planet.

The extreme range at which the mines held them back meant two things; first, that nearly fifty  
percent of the plasma intensity would have dissipated by the time they impacted with the surface  
and secondly, the accuracy of these blasts would be almost non-existent.

Neither of these things mattered greatly to Hek'at at the moment because he had no intention of  
taking Entrica. This raid was purely for destruction. The reduced plasma blasts rained heavily  
down upon the continents and the cities of Entrica. Blast after blast slammed into the shielded  
cities but many other blasts slammed into the landscape around the cities. Crops burned,  
smaller towns and villages were destroyed and people died. In a stroke of luck, several plasma  
blasts impacted against a fault line and caused the tectonic plates to slip, causing a massive  
earthquake, which ripped through several nearby cities, leveling buildings and killing even more  
people, despite their shields.

"Reading massive damage to the surface in several regions." One Jaffa reported.

Hek'at nodded in satisfaction. "And the Tau'ri ships?"

"They've regrouped and are heading to intercept us. They appear to be towing a number of  
orbital weapons platforms…" Another Jaffa replied.

"Now that's a clever move." Hek'at acknowledged, his respect for his opponent raising several  
notches. The heavily damaged Alliance ships could never hope to push back his forces in their  
current state but those orbital weapon platforms would definitely go a long way towards evening  
out those odds.

"Regardless, we've achieved what we came here to do. Set a course for Gryphon and jump to  
hyperspace as soon as we clear the gravity well." Hek'at ordered.

"Jaffa, kree!"

Fires burned across Entrica, visible even from space, as the remnants of the Entrican defense  
fleet tried to close with the Motherships. The massive pyramid vessels, however, ignored the  
incensed Entricans and rotated smoothly as they steadily accelerated away from the planet.  
Moments later, reality warped and twisted and in a blinding flash of light, the five Motherships  
jumped into hyperspace.

The commander of the defense fleet gritted his teeth in frustration and turned his ships around.  
Despite doing everything possible to defend the world below, the fires on the planet's surface  
burned into his mind with a guilt that would haunt him forever.

** July 13th 2010  
Regional Supply Depot, Separatist territory of System Lord Hera**

Teal'c shifted uncomfortably in the Jaffa armour he had worn for so long as First Prime to  
Apophis. He was sure that the discomfort was purely mental but knowing that didn't make the  
irritation go away. The smoke from the battle drifted aimlessly across the open area around the  
Stargate as the rest of the rebel Jaffa, nearly five hundred in all, bega to appear from the depths  
of the surrounding forest. Dead Jaffa belonging to Hera, with the copper-hued helmets of a  
bull's head lay dead, strewn around the Stargate, mixed in with a handful of dead rebel Jaffa,  
wearing the golden helmets of a cats head, exact duplicates of Bast's Jaffa.

Nearly a kilometer away, a medium sized supply depot of Hera's burned brightly as the surviving  
Jaffa tried desperately to put out the fires before more volatile supplies could explode. Several  
small explosions rippled across the compound as continued testament to that losing battle.

Teal'c frowned darkly as the Rebel dead were retrieved and taken back through the Stargate,  
back to Spearhead. They needed to leave evidence for the Separatist System Lord Hera that  
Bast had performed this strike but early on in the war, it had become apparent that the Goa'uld  
of both factions had been reviving the dead for intelligence on SGC operations and if Hera did  
revive one of the dead Rebel Jaffa, the entire operation would soon become worse than useless.  
Fortunately, two things were going to make this mission a success. Firstly, enough of Hera's  
surviving Jaffa had seen that it was Jaffa 'belonging' to Bast that had caused the destruction of  
the depot, but the thing that would really confirm it was the two dead Jaffa that actually  
belonged to Bast that had been killed three days ago in a previous skirmish. Kept on ice until  
now, Teal'c oversaw the careful positioning of the bodies nearby that made it look as if they had  
been overlooked in the hurried departure.

Shouts in the distance signaled the approaching forces of Hera and Teal'c snapped his fingers,  
signaling the remaining Rebels to return through the 'Gate. In the distance, the whine of a  
Death Glider could be heard with rising intensity. Looking over the area one last time, he  
nodded to himself, acknowledging that even Master Bra'tac would be proud of the deception he  
had perpetrated here today.

As he ran back to the Stargate, his last thought before throwing himself through the shimmering  
pool of light was that he wished he could see Bast's face when Hera launched a strike in  
retaliation for this attack.

_End of Interlude_

** 03:42 ZULU  
July 15th 2010  
Outskirts of the Polaris system**

At this distance, the light from the sun of this Alliance system was but a dim glow, the pinprick  
ball of light almost indistinguishable from the stars surrounding it.

The sensor satellite than scanned this section of the solar system was but a dark gray sphere  
against the backdrop of space. Indeed, you could really only tell its location from the way it  
occluded the stars as it passed. Although it had active sensors, they required a command from  
the Defense Net Control Centre on Polaris to be activated. Instead, the satellite relied upon its  
passive sensors to detect intruders.

Of far less range and resolution, the passive sensors had no trouble picking up the warping of  
reality as localized radiation increased and space itself seemed to open up to disgorge a small  
fighter.

Exhausted, dirty and cramped after spending sixteen days in the increasingly tight confines of the  
Sabre's cockpit, constantly avoiding Jaffa patrols, Commander Kirsty 'Razor' Stephanovich sighed  
with heartfelt relief as she engaged her engines for the last time and sent her Sabre streaking  
insystem.

Her perilous journey was over.

_**End of Part 1**_


	2. chapter 2

Spearhead: Foundations of Sand

Part 2

Chapter 3

Paradigm Shifts

12:19 ZULU

July 15th

Spearhead – Scientific Support Division Labs

Brigadier General Samantha Carter was in heaven. She had…well, there was no good way to put it…she had 'dumped' all her paperwork on her long-suffering 2IC, Colonel DeSoto and spent the past six hours down among the tech staff of the SSD labs, working out the kinks of over half a dozen projects simultaneously. Despite her promotions and increased responsibilities, her first love has always been science and her superiors, O'Neill in particular, had always recognized this and allowed her extreme latitude when it came to getting involved in the numerous and varied projects of the SSD.

Though highly intelligent, she was also possessed of a personal honesty that compelled her to admit that she wasn't the smartest person in the world. Her primacy among the scientists of the SSD in the early days of the war was mainly due to the limited number of scientists with the level of security clearance necessary to work with wormholes, anti-gravity generators and other advanced technologies. Now that the entire world, or more accurately entire worlds and their scientific establishments were being exposed to highly advanced technologies, the SGC no longer needed to rely on her genius alone.

She snorted softly at her thoughts. She was still a damned fine scientist and she could still show some of the test bench scientists a thing or two about practical quantum physics and wormholes.

"General, I still don't see how we can get the emitter output over 84%…" One of the engineers called out in frustration. They were currently working on the 'Shadow' Electronic Warfare spacecraft, something that had been in development for almost a year now, in response to the sensor/communication jamming technologies Bast had deployed so effectively around the time she had taken Gryphon. With a shape somewhere between the Sabre and the Pegasus, essentially an elongated triangle, it mounted a triangular rotating dish on a dorsal fin, similar to the Air Force AWACS aircraft. That was where the similarities ended however because the Shadow was not merely a long-range sensor platform, it was also a electronic warfare vessel, built to counter Bast jamming and emit its own but also a first strike unit, utilizing active stealth emissions to cloak the vessel from any sensor apparatus that it had the frequency for which it operated on.

Assuming they could get the damn thing to work.

Early this morning, however, she had been woken up to learn that a single scout had managed to break the blockade of Gryphon with a data package detailing everything that had happened on that world for the past year. The information had been shocking to say the least, but the details of the battles fought, both victories and defeats, had been incredible and even now, the war planners were going over everything with a fine toothcomb, analyzing strategies of a ground invasion and occupation that they hadn't really been exposed to, how the Gryphon Army had handled it, the lessons learnt, information that had been hard won and was almost as precious as the knowledge that the Gryphonese still fought on.

Damn but the Alliance was proud of those people. They had done their part and tied down the better part of Bast's military machine for over twelve months and now, it was time to finish the job.

Which brought her back to the 'Shadow', a key element in the plan to re-take Gryphon. The data from Gryphon had included gigabytes of info on Gryphonese tactical and strategic operations within a jamming environment and the tricks and techniques they had evolved to deal with the jamming. They had done wonders with what they had but they were obviously lacking the technical base to develop the technology further than the short-range countermeasures they had.

"You've been trying to raise the efficiency of each emitter but you keep hitting a brick wall due to the limitations of the materials involved." Carter explained as she continued to fiddle with emitter modules on the inert dish of the Shadow. "Maybe the Asgard have a better resonator chamber but Alliance materials science isn't quite in their league yet."

"So what are you doing then?" The engineer asked wildly.

Carter grinned. "What we humans do best, Chief, adapt. Instead of boosting the efficiency of the emitter, I'm reducing the size of each emitter node. They're oversized anyway, 'cause there's always someone, usually a man, who thinks bigger is always better…" She shook her head at the tech's mildly sheepish look. "Anyway, reducing each emitter's size doesn't affect the performance we've already achieved but it does allow us to cram more emitters into the available space. By hooking them up in parallel and re-writing a few lines of synchronization code, we should get a exponential increase in overall system efficiency."

"But that's…so…" The tech struggled to find the words.

"Inelegant?" Carter supplied. At his jerky, hesitant nod (he hadn't forgotten that she was a one-star General, despite her current activities.), she chuckled softly. "As General O'Neill told me once, 'it doesn't have to be pretty, it only has to work.'"

Nine hours later, after a lot of extra effort, it worked.

Admiral of the Fleet, Lord Sir Henry Patterson, scanned the array of Ground Force Generals before and sighed. "We only have so much troop lift capacity, gentlemen. You're going to have to cut your first wave Marine force back by at least ten 10%."

"And plan on losing anywhere from ten to twenty Orcas if we are unable to successfully suppress ground fire as they go in." Admiral Serena interjected. This was a joint meeting between the top people of both Fleet and Ground Forces, essentially a top-level review of the data that had escaped from Gryphon and its integration into the plan to retake the planet. Various mid-to-low level planners were doing a more in depth review of the data but senior staff wanted to get a feel for how their initial plans would play out, now that they had some idea of the defenses Hek'at had set up around Gryphon.

General Stuart looked at his ground commanders and frowned. "That means we might lose an entire Marine battalion to ground fire, and the ability to transport another battalion in the second wave."

"Can't we simply stand off until all ground fire has been suppressed?" Admiral Marakesh wondered out loud.

One of the other General's shook his head. "You'd never be able to target something that wasn't firing at you. Plus, fighting the Gryphonese has taught the Jaffa a lot as well, such as going for transports in particular. Hek'at's anti-air people will hold their most potent fire until they see the transports. We're going to have to do it the hard way. We blow away anything that resembles an anti-air emplacement and then we send in the transports with a heavy fighter/bomber escort. Hopefully, we'll be able to paste anything that opens up before it does too much damage."

"I think the Tollan corvettes might make a good escort. They're small and more than fast enough to cover the Orcas, they also have enough firepower to take on anything smaller than an Al'kesh with relative ease." Admiral Serena added.

Patterson nodded and made a small note of all these ideas. "Now, the big question, do we send the assault wave in before or after the 'Wraith' units go in?"

"After." Stuart replied firmly. The unanimous nods from everyone else made the big question a relatively simple one.

Before the data from Gryphon had arrived, the assault wave had been planned to go in first, Patterson wondered why and said so.

"It's the numbers of Jaffa we'll be dealing with, Admiral. Over three million Jaffa on the planet? It's unprecedented. We figured we'd be dealing with maybe five hundred thousand, maybe three quarters of a million, tops. But three? That gives Hek'at enough Jaffa to pin down everything Gryphon has and still maintain a garrison at Wakazi that will be close to fifty thousand, and that's an entire third of the first assault wave we were going to send across the entire planet. We need the 'Wraiths' to get in and secure the Stargate, both as a distraction and to clear it for us to start bringing in the rest of the liberation force."

Nearly a million troops were assembled across the Alliance, a combined force of units from each world that would help to retake Gryphon in a battle that promised to be bloody as would be protracted. Jaffa were not known for surrendering.

"Why so many Jaffa?" Patterson asked curiously.

General Stuart shrugged. "I talked it over with some of our Tok'ra liaisons. It seems Gryphon is something of an anomaly of the standard operating procedure of the System Lords whose only historical precedent is Earth. Typically, System Lords prefer small populations, easy to manage, to control. There are exceptions but even the most populous slave world has about one hundred million inhabitants and those are damned rare, mainly manufacturing centers like the Dal'cor shipyards we hit earlier in the month. We believe she has the same intentions for Gryphon, writ large."

"Gryphon has a population of over three billion…" Patterson murmured.

"Yep." Stuart confirmed. "The last System Lord to hold a world that populous was Ra."

"Earth." Serena breathed out softly.

"Yeah but Ra realized we were more trouble than we were worth and abandoned us for 10,000 years. Thanks to that oversight, O'Neill and Dr Jackson opened the door for us and now we're toppling the System Lords one by one." Stuart sighed heavily. "But to return to the issue, Bast's only real plentiful resource is her Jaffa Legions. The System Lords have millions of them. Now we've put a dent in them, for sure, and a lot are tied down going against the Separatists but make no mistake, folks, we are going up against a three million man army that will not surrender and are no doubt fortifying positions among the Sanctuary cities they have captured which means orbital bombardments are out of the question. And we can't blockade them and starve them out 'cause we'd be starving the civilians in the cities with them."

"The Jaffa lost hundreds of thousands of Jaffa talking those cities…" Marakesh whispered in rising horror.

Stuart and the other Ground Force Generals looked grim. "Yeah, we're gonna get just as bloody taking them back."

July 19th 2010

Union Mothership Fist of the Gods

Wakazi Base, Gryphon

Jaffa Second Ok'ran strolled onto the bridge of the Mothership to be greeted by Hek'at frowning darkly at the report in his hand. Ok'ran sighed quietly and continued walking to the main console. The Jaffa on duty there made to relinquish his post to the Second but Ok'ran gestured for him to remain. Ok'ran merely glanced over the displays, updating himself with all the current activities that were occurring on and around Gryphon.

After the Gryphon military had foolishly expended a significant portion of its remaining forces to get a courier out of the system, three more Sanctuary cities had fallen to the Jaffa Legions. Soon after though, they had run headfirst into the stubborn brick wall that was the remainder of the Gryphon resistance force. They had regained a tenuous stalemate once more which, truth be told, was all right with Ok'ran at least because it was hell trying to subdue these Sanctuary cities. Though barely a fraction of the natives actively resisted the occupation, the ones that did fought like animals for every street corner, every building, and every room!

Still, they were losing ground before the staggering numbers of Jaffa Bast was throwing at the problem.

He frowned. That really wasn't like her. Usually she would come up with some technological marvel to overcome a problem. Sending in over three million Jaffa to subdue a world seemed like a roundabout way to achieve one's goals but it was better than destroying.

"Ok'ran." Hek'at called out.

Breaking away from his musings, Ok'ran immediately moved before his old friend. "First Prime?"

"Read this…" Hek'at ordered, passing him a slate-like display pad. "…tell me what you think."

It was a series of reports on the last six weeks worth of Tau'ri raids. Initially things had been quiet and then suddenly activity ramped upwards sharply, right across the board. Strike was followed by counter-strike. Three weeks ago, military actions were at an all time high, only equaled by the battle above the Tau'ri homeworld itself, then, all of a sudden, activity ceased. Fleets suddenly disappeared. Scouts no longer probed for weak spots.

Uh-oh, Ok'ran thought, alarm bells going off in his head. Looking up, those same bells were apparently ringing in Hek'at's head as well.

"Why does an army suddenly go quiet for no apparent reason…especially when they have us on the defensive?" Hek'at asked conversationally. The Jaffa on the bridge seemed to shift to hear the exchange without actually moving.

Ok'ran smiled. His friend was always teaching. "The same reason a young Jaffa not five summers old suddenly goes quiet. He's up to mischief."

Hek'at nodded. "They're coming soon, old friend. I can feel it in my bones. There hasn't been a better time for them to strike."

"Two more Hat'ak's arrived last night." Ok'ran reported, mind awash with figures and calculations. "That brings us to seven Shal'kra's, eighteen Hat'ak's and nine Brel'keht's. The new missiles will effectively remove the fighters and bombers from the equation but we still don't have enough warships to stop O'Neill if he comes in force."

Looking thoughtful, Hek'at waved away his friends conclusion. "Bah, to have enough ships he would have to strip his defenses to the bone. His Alliance has too many politicians, they would never allow him to do such a thing." Hek'at, despite having lived under a religious dictatorship for his entire life, knew quite well the fundamental weaknesses of other political systems. He had used those weaknesses to his advantage when invading other worlds.

Ok'ran grimaced with distaste. "To rely on the attitudes of politicians, even backstabbing Tau'ri ones, is dangerous, Hek'at."

Despite the grimness of the situation, Hek'at had to laugh. "It's all we have, old friend."

July 30th 2010

Emergency Alliance Council Meeting, Chamber of Light, Sintesia

"Preparations are proceeding apace. In less than a week, the first Alliance battlegroups will be dispatched on a carefully crafted departure schedule that will result in a simultaneous strike on five important Union worlds. Less the six hours later, the second wave of Alliance battlegroups will hit another seven targets."

The nineteen Council members, each representing their world or worlds in the Alliance, stared dispassionately at O'Neill as he explained the overall plan to liberate Gryphon.

"With these strikes, we hope to cause Bast to assign what little reserves she has to reinforce the places we hit. The strikes have been carefully planned to hit worlds that have had ships pulled away to reinforce Gryphon. Hitting these worlds will lead Bast to conclude that we have no intention of attacking Gryphon and that we are using our current numerical superiority to destroy her weakened worlds. Each battlegroup, however, will have but a limited amount of time in which to cause whatever the damage they can and then depart for the Rally Point. Our goal is destruction, merely distraction."

As O'Neill explained the plan, his long-time aide, Colonel Katherine Krupskaya manipulated the holographic display, timing the appearance of various bits of information with his presentation. The massive hologram showed the lines of approach from each of the battlegroups to their targets and from there to the Rally Point.

The Sintesian representative, Councilor M'Thal, leaned forward intently, his voice like gravel. "The Rally Point is less than ten light years from Gryphon, General, will Hek'at not have emplaced sensors in the system to warning against the very thing you are trying to do?"

O'Neill shook his head. "The system's sun is a late-stage brown-dwarf. The gravitational eddies prevent any long-term sensor station being placed there. Hek'at has, instead, assigned a light Mothership, capable of navigating the gravitational disruptions, to act as an early warning watchdog. Our ships will, however, arrive within minutes of each other, right after we destroy the Mothership using some new stealthy assets we have developed."

Councilor M'Thal appeared satisfied and O'Neill continued with his explanation of the plan to liberate Gryphon.

"…and once we have secured as much of the planet as possible, Grand Fleet will advance on Sohag." He concluded.

Unfortunately, Councilor Doman Fadil, from Entrica, had been waiting for this moment. "You get ahead of yourself, General." Fadil spoke firmly into the silence. "The Council has approved the pans to liberate Gryphon but we still feel that a strike on Sohag is…over ambitious, to say the least."

"Speak for yourself, Fadil." Councillor Lowtru, from Polaris, called out, his powerful voice booming across the Chamber of Light, at odds with his diminutive appearance. "The Polarian Government supports O'Neill's plan to strike Sohag completely."

"But the risk…" Councillor Ansala of the Hwa'mee responded in the penetrating whisper of his species.

"Is negligible." M'Thal concluded flatly.

Doman Fadil frowned heavily. "Strong words, Councilor, from a species whose only point of contact with the System Lords, is on a distant colony world. How daring would you be if your homeworld had been bombarded from orbit? If 4 million of your people had been obliterated, your cities turned to ash!"

M'Thal growled at the Entrican councilor. "The Earthers lost 30 million at the Battle of Sol, I do not hear them whining about the risk! This is war, Councilor!"

"Gentlemen, please!" Councilor Illiana Kutsov pleaded. "Let us not fight amongst each other! The enemy is out there and it is to the enemy to which we must take this fight!"

"We agreee." A sibilant hiss interjected.

All eyes in the Chamber of Light turned to the Susparti representative, Zuuth Maal.

"We have heard your words, and we find ourselves in agreement." The reptilian Ambassador announced.

Doman Fadil smiled broadly. "I'm glad to see the wisdom of the Susparti race…"

"Not you…" Zuuth Maal interrupted calmly before pointing to O'Neill. "Him."

O'Neill felt his eyebrows shooting upwards of their own accord. "Ambassador…?"

Zuuth Maal let his jaw drop low, a sign of sheer amusement among his kind. "We have heard your words, O'Neill. They are of a kind of wisdom which is needed if you are to win this war."

"But…" Fadil began hesitantly.

"No." The Susparti overrode him. "A soldier's choice is not always the best option, especially in times of peace, but listening to our soldiers has kept the Susparti alive and untouched for three hundred of your years. The Susparti Empire has made its decision. Launch you attack upon Sohag, end the reign of Bast, and the Empire will join your Alliance in this and all future endeavours."

With great effort, O'Neill kept his face impassive, but inside, he was screaming wildly with joy.

Hiding a grin, Kutsov surveyed the assembled councilors. "This is a serious issue. The participation of the Susparti Empire in our Alliance would be beneficial to all but all voices in the Alliance are heard. Does anyone want to oppose this motion?"

Predictably, Doman Fadil stood up with an overstated imperiousness about him. "The Entrican people protest the blatant blackmail inherent in the Susparti offer." He stated flatly. "If the Empire will withhold its support on the rejection of its conditions then I say they are not worth having as allies."

The Susparti hissed dangerously. "Your words hold a certain 'warm-blooded' logic to them, Councilor, which is the only reason I do not offer 'challenge' right now. The Empire wishes to see Bast dead and if the Alliance cannot see the need for her removal, especially when a golden opportunity for that removal stares them in the face, I say that you are not worth having as allies."

"That certainly gave us our due." M'Thal rumbled quietly. A small titter of laughter rose from the Councilors nearest to him.

"We'll put it to a vote, then." Kutsov concluded. "Those in favour of the Sohag strike, please signal your support…"

Lights appeared in front of each Councilor and it was immediately apparent the majority was in support of the motion.

"Those against…" Kutsov continued, purely as a formality, as only four lights appear. "The resolution passes." She announced with a grin.

O'Neill casually put his hands in his pockets and turned to the Susparti Ambassador. "Welcome to the Alliance, Councilor."

The meeting had dissolved fairly quickly after the vote. Doman Fadil had stormed out in anger, two of the Councilors that had voted with him, followed in his wake.

The rest of the Council had risen and formally welcomed Zuuth Maal into the Alliance. Now they were all drinking and talking casually, in small groups, about the integration of the Empire and the rest of the Alliance, the possible cultural problems and the inevitable benefits that would result in that integration.

Councilor Kutsov sidled up to O'Neill, a drink in her hand and a wide grin on her face. "You never cease to amaze me, O'Neill."

"How so, Councilor?" O'Neill asked wryly.

"Well, you did just pull the political coup of the century." Kutsov replied. "You managed to overcome your Council opposition to the Sohag strike and you brought the Susparti Empire into the Alliance…and all in the space of a minute. I sincerely hope we never find ourselves on opposite sides of an argument, General."

"It was hardly intentional." He commented with some amusement. "And I was barely responsible for any of it."

"Hah!" Kutsov responded with lordly, and loud, disdain. "You American's are too self-effacing. You should be more acknowledging of your strength and your victories. You should let your enemies know that you are a force to be reckoned with. We Russians know this, all too well."

"Maybe so, Councilor, but I still had no idea that Zuuth Maal was going to make the offer he did."

Kutsov shook her head pityingly. "Fine, continue to preach your innocence. You and I know better and I will make sure your enemies know better as well, since you are too 'humble' to do so yourself."

She took a sip of her wine and looked at O'Neill in contemplation. "What are your plans, now that you have approval for Sohag?"

O'Neill sighed heavily. "A quick tour of the shipyards and then I'll join Patterson on the new flagship of the Second Fleet."

Kutsov eyed him closely. "You intend to go into battle with the Fleet? You are a ground combat specialist, are you not?"

"I'm a little of everything these days, Councilor, being SAC-SGC, but I would go regardless. I'm their superior officer and rank doesn't confer immunity from risk."

"A noble, if idiotic sentiment." Kutsov replied, only to be rewarded with a raised eyebrow from O'Neill. She smiled. "Out of the entire Alliance, you have the most experience at fighting the Goa'uld. You have personally killed numerous System Lords, blazes, you killed Ra himself. Your leadership, knowledge and abilities are unmatched and you would risk all of that to be a mere bystander in a battle that you could make no substantive contribution?"

"Yes." O'Neill replied simply.

"Well said." A cultured British accent called out from behind the pair. O'Neill and Kutsov turned to be met by the sight of Admiral of the Fleet, Lord Sir Henry Patterson approaching.

"Admiral!" The Russian Councilor greeted him heartily. "I was just explaining O'Neill's foolishness to him, I would appreciate your support in turning him from this reckless endevour."

"No doubt you would, Councilor, but you will not have it." Patterson replied calmly. "I would welcome O'Neill on the bridge of my vessel."

Kutsov glared at the Admiral and then at O'Neill. "What foolishness infects the minds of you both?"

O'Neill shared a knowing look with Patterson and then tried to explain his reasoning to the Councilor, who was a good woman and a good leader, but who lived in a different world to that of O'Neill. "Councilor, and this is no reflection upon you or the Council for things work differently in your world, but in our world, a bad leader will tell his troops, 'Go, there!'. A good leader will say, 'Follow me!'"

Kutsov looked thoughtful for many seconds. "I believe I…understand." She exhaled heavily. "Go with God, General."

She walked away and left the two men alone.

"Are you ready, Jack?" Patterson asked quietly.

"Follow me." O'Neill ordered firmly and started to walk towards the exit.

Patterson smiled, his eyes glittering in anticipation. "Right behind you, sir."

Throne Room, Fortress Palace, Sohag

"And her forces overran two of our patrols this morning in that sector, another patrol is late reporting in. I don't anticipate it's doing so, either." Bast concluded darkly. "She has accused me of destroying her supply depot in the Lantaro Sector. No doubt the work of O'Neill and his pet Jaffa. It's the situation with Lord Yu all over again. These Separatist refuse to see the threat the Tau'ri have become and so blame me for every defeat the Tau'ri inflict upon them."

A large hologram of Hek'at floated before her throne, for he was still at Gryphon, overseeing the defenses for the inevitable liberation attempt by the Alliance.

"What do you intend to do?" Hek'at probed cautiously. Their relationship was still considerably frosty and he couldn't quite bring himself to be as casual with her as he would have liked.

Bast sighed. "I will do what I must. I ordered local counterattacks along that entire front. Hopefully, Hera will see reason and cease her harassment of my ships."

Hek'at felt is his heart twist for not so long ago, she would have said 'our ships'. "Can I still have the ships from Lady Asphe'khat?"

Bast nodded. "I will issue the orders after we finish but this will leave our reserves dangerously depleted. Hek'at, you are to preserve your Mothership force as much as it is possible to do so. If the Tau'ri come in force, retreat. Surrender Gryphon space to them. Right now, your ships are more important than a planet full of barely suppressed slaves. Leave your Jaffa to fight on in the cities. Gryphon will run with blood and maybe, just maybe, the Alliance will choke to death on it."

Hek'at frowned but nodded in assent. "And if Hera doesn't cease her raids?"

"Then I will crush her." Bast growled.

Chapter 4

Cannon to the left of them, cannon to the right of them,

Cannon in front of them, volleyed and thundered…

T- 59h:01m:55s

August 8th 2010

Alliance Carrier ENS Daniel Jackson

Grand Fleet Staging Area, Polaris System

O'Neill stood next to Carter and Captain Franklin DuPont, CO of the Second Fleet flag carrier, at the front of the bridge, gazing out of the huge glasteel viewport. Serried ranks of destroyers, cruisers and battleships glittered in vastness of space. Before them lay the Alliance Grand Fleet, the entire First, Second and Third Fleets, combined with every Home Defense Force vessel that could be safely spared.

Though many of these ships were Alliance standard designs such as the Prometheus class destroyers, even more of the ships came in a myriad of forms unique to each race that designed it.

Bulbous, flattened silver spheres of the Tollan mixed with blocky, functional-looking vessels of the Polaris Navy. Spiky, charcoal gray, tree-like vessels of the Adenan mixed with narrow, copper-hued, blade-shaped Susparti cruisers and dreadnoughts.

Waves of fighters and bombers from all races streaked through the ranks of ships, adding a scale to the panorama that defied description.

Every vessel that was spaceworthy had been pressed into service and it was an impressive sigh to behold.

"Flag to General O'Neill." A voice rang out over the bridge speakers.

O'Neill glanced at DuPont and looked up at the ceiling as he responded. "O'Neill here."

"Sir, the final fleet elements are acknowledging ready. Admiral Patterson reports Grand Fleet operational status green and requests permission to begin Operation Yellowbrick."

Taking a deep breath, he passed his gaze over the vast fleet before him. Thousands of men and women ready to fight and die on his word. The events of the next week would hopefully shorten the course of the war. He hoped the weight of sending so many young people to their deaths would become easier to bear while simultaneously pray that it wouldn't.

He let out a long, slow breath. "Proceed."

T- 55h:42m:13s

Union Mothership Fist of the Gods

Hek'at rolled out of bed in annoyance. His head had finally hit the pillow after a long day of fighting around Gryphon and he had been sleeping soundly until about four hours ago when he had woken up suddenly, heart racing and mind awash with a 'feeling' of a fathomless tide approaching.

He had tried kel'no'reem for almost two hours but found he could not calm his thoughts to get past the first shel'nok, the first level of attainment, let alone reach a state of meditative bliss. He had tried to sleep once more but found he could not do that either.

Giving up on his rest and ignoring his feelings, he started to put his armour back on. Maybe he and Ok'ran could go and join the front for a while. Combat always did settle his nerves.

T- 48h:08m:26s

Alliance Carrier ENS Daniel Jackson

Admiral Patterson stood on the Flag bridge of the ENS Daniel Jackson and watched the strategic repeater display intently. Commander Crayven, the Tactical Action Officer, stood beside him with an oversized datapad.

"TF 2.1 reports ready in all aspects. They're scheduled to jump in five minutes." Crayven reported, glancing at the timeline display.

Patterson nodded absently as he watched the blips that represented Task Forces 1.1, 1.2 and 1.3 as they headed out in three different directions towards their targets across six thousand light years. For the past day, ever since O'Neill had given the order to proceed, a battlegroup had jumped into hyperspace on a precise schedule. The entire first stage of Operation Yellowbrick was what was called a 'time on target' attack. Each of the seven battlegroups would drop out of hyperspace at their target at the same moment, with a margin of five minutes either side of the planned moment.

The targets were fairly well defended but each battlegroup had been tailored to have just enough force to be confident of seriously damaging the Union defenses and withdrawing with minimal trouble. Some of the targets were particularly well defended and the four battlegroups had been paired up for the initial strike. From there, they would jump onto a second set of targets, of slightly lesser importance, and hit those defences too. By this point it would be hoped that twelve key Union worlds would be screaming for reinforcements and everything Bast had would go to those worlds, leaving their true target vulnerable.

In less than two days, they would emerge from hyperspace simultaneously and the fighting would begin.

T- 04h:47m:16s

Chamber of Light, Sintesia

The Chamber of Light was relatively empty at the moment. Only a few aides flitted around, here and their, watching the small group of people sat near the center of the chamber, waiting to fulfill any request they may have. The massive hologram was operation, showing a large-scale star map, with icons representing the Alliance battlegroups as they sped through hyperspace, on their way to make the initial strikes in this fight that would lead them to Sohag.

Councilors Iliana Kutsov of Earth, Doman Fadil of Entrica, M'Thul of Sintesia, Althin of Tollana and Zuuth Maal of Susparti were sat casually at a table, near to the center of the Chamber of Light, at a place usually occupied by minor Chamber officials such as the archivists, researchers, etc.

They had been there for several hours, keeping an eye on the dispersion of the fleet as they talked about numerous things, in a less formal setting, where appearances sometimes held sway more than reality. They had talked about the Susparti Empire, the problems the Alliance has had integrating other, less 'human' cultures and about the Alliance in general, it's aims and it's obligations.

"I have to say, I was quite surprised to learn that the Asgard were only protecting around four hundred worlds across the entire Galaxy, I would have assumed there were thousands of cultures out there…" Fadil remarked as he took a sip of a hot Earth drink, coffee, that was becoming a major export item across the Alliance.

Councilor Althin smiled slightly. "A side effect of having faster-than-light drives capable of crossing the Galaxy in a little more than three of your days…You tend to miss the worlds that don't broadcast their presence to the Galaxy at large. Being able to get anywhere relatively quickly doesn't engender careful exploration of space. Even the Tollan are not immune to this…quirk. Barely fifty years ago, we came across a world with a steam-age civilization, in a system less than two hundred light years from Tollana. In over a millennia of space travel, we still had civilizations and entire star systems, effectively on our doorstep, that we hadn't bothered to explore."

"The Galaxy is big place. Too big for minds as small as ours to comprehend." M'Thul commented quietly.

The Tollan Councilor nodded sagely. "Assuming a five hundred light year buffer around the Alliance member worlds, we have effectively claimed nearly 7% of the Galaxy. The Goa'uld Union can claim close to 28% while the System Lord Separatists control nearly 35%. That's 70% of the Galaxy claimed and yet, combined, we all probably have an actual presence in less than 20% of the star systems. Only the Universe knows what goes on in the Galaxy we have overlooked, ignores or not yet reached. All of which pales compared to Stargate Command's new operations in the Pegasus Galaxy. While after two months we've barely even scratched the surface of that new location, the Atlantis unit is already reporting both fascinating and disturbing events in equal measure."

Iliana Kutsov, recognizing herself as the only Russian present, felt it her duty to bring the conversation to more practical matters. "We have enough trouble with the parasitic aliens in our own Galaxy already, let us not go searching for new troubles until we have our current ones in hand."

Althin inclined his head in acknowledgement and gazed up at the holographic display. "Do you think they will successful?"

Zuuth Maal hissed in amusement. "You wish to pierce the veils of time and find out before the battle is joined?"

The Tollan Councilor was taken aback. "I merely wish someone to echo my hopes that we will be successful."

The reptilian being shook her head. "You cannot know the future. I know the relative strength of our force. We have made assumptions about the enemies. We cannot know how the battle will go until it is joined. To wish otherwise would be to invite doubt and despair."

The hulking bear-like form of M'Thul studied the Susparti carefully. "So you are confident of success?"

Zuuth Maal gave her species version of a frown. "I know that in war, there are the victors and the defeated. It is possible that we may be defeated. Defeats happen to the fastest, the strongest. I place my confidence not in battles of ships and swords, I am confident in the self-destructive nature of the Goa'uld. The nature that will be their ultimate undoing."

"If we lose today, so be it. Sitting here, I cannot affect that outcome. But I know that tomorrow, in the end, we will ultimately win."

T 00h:03m:12s

August 11th 2010

Command Central, Fortress Palace, Sohag

"Second?" The Jaffa manning the communications console called out.

The Jaffa Second currently in charge of Command Central, here at the centre of the union, sighed heavily. It had been a peaceful night up until this point. Was Hera causing his God trouble again? "Yes?"

The Jaffa at the console looked troubled. "We just received a garbled transmission from our outpost on Fen'dhak. It was hard to tell but it sounded like they were under attack."

"Raise them!" The Second ordered.

The Jaffa frowned. "I already tried once I had lost the signal…I can't get through." His console beeped urgently once more. "Second…we are now receiving a distress call from Ragesh 3, the depot there is under attack. It's the Tau'ri."

Two Union worlds thousands of light years apart, attacked, at the same time? This did not sound good. "Sound the alert. Send a signal to Hek'at informing him of the situation, I'm going to notify the Lady Bast. We need her wisdom."

Lord Kiptakanae carefully studied the way Bast entered Command Central, her Jaffa Praetorian Guard fluidly moving alongside her, protecting her with great diligence, even her, in the heart of Union territory. Why, one would think she didn't trust her allies…

The irony was not lost on him. He and the other senior Union System Lords stood around the large chamber, aloof and unconcerned but in reality, very, very concerned.

"Once again, we dance to the tune that O'Neill plays. Tell me, Bast, do you ever get tired of being led by the nose?" He asked her sneeringly. Casually, he left his position against a wall and moved slowly in Bast's direction. The guards followed his path with their eyes but made no other discernible movement.

"Why Lord Kiptakanae, how wonderful to see you again. I do enjoy the morale-lifting remarks with which you seek share with our Union. You realize that membership is quite voluntarily? There is no threat of force holding you here if you wish to leave." Bast replied caustically. The little tyrant had been becoming more and more spiteful over the past year and she was becoming incredibly weary of it.

Kiptakanae smiled and placed his hands behind his back. "I believe in this Union, Lady Bast, I have faith in this Union. I simply lack faith in you."

Bast glared at him and was going to respond when another Union world signaled its distress, it's icon on the large holographic display blinking crimson death. "We have not the time to bandy words, Kiptakanae, and a Union to fight for." And with that, she turned her back and moved up next to the main console.

Insult aside, Kiptakanae was satisfied, his test had been successful. Had anyone noticed, the ring placed upon his little finger, glowed with an internal yellow light. What would be mistaken for pure ornamentation was in fact a highly miniaturized sensor, capable of detecting certain emissions used when scanning for weapons. While Bast's Praetorian Guard were very diligent, they apparently trusted the corridor scanners to detect unauthorized weaponry.

The scanners ignored the ribbon devices worn by each of the System Lords as a matter of course. Even now, with her back turned to him, he could simply lift his hand and sending a powerful wave of energy at her. Unfortunately, that's all it could project; a blunt, unfocussed wall of energy that would be effectively disappated by the personal shields the System Lords wore as a matter of course. No what was needed was an ak'rit'ar, a device similar in appearance to a ribbon device but much more powerful, incredible focused and more than capable of piercing a personal shield in one shot. Unfortunately, it was incredibly easy to detect by weapon scanners and no System Lord would contemplate wearing one around another System Lord for they really had only one function which was to kill other System Lords.

Lord Yu had provided him with an ak'rit'ar and he had found a way to get the disassembled device into Command Central. Each of the components were hidden around the room right now, everything but the glove. Now that he knew he could assemble the weapon without being detected the instant the last piece clicked into place and it powered up, he would wear the glove, disguised as his ribbon device.

As Bast began to spit out orders, Kiptakanae kept his face carefully expressionless but inside, his smile was ghoulish. Next time, Lady Bast, I will take your life and, despite Yu's fond wishes, the union shall be mine...

Union Mothership Fist of the Gods

Twenty minutes after the first strikes began, Bast finally made a direct communication with her First Prime. He had intercepted messages of course, picked up whispers of Alliance vessels erupting from hyperspace to blow away a Mothership and the disappearing just as quickly but since he was in Gryphon, he was effectively out of the loop. Everything was being governed from Central Command on Sohag and he had no choice but to wait until official word from there."

'Incoming signal from Sohag." Ok'ran announced. Bast's face flickered onto the main screen.

"I'm sorry Hek'at, but I have to divert the warships you were promised. Contrary to what we thought, O'Neill is ignoring Gryphon and going after other worlds in the Alliance that we have stripped of defenses in order to boost yours."

Hek'at nodded in reluctant agreement.

"We need to even out the deployments otherwise O'Neill is simply going to bounce from each lightly defended in the Union to the other." He suggested. "Do you want me to dispatch any ships fro Gryphon?"

Bast took a moment to consider the offer. "No. Hold on to what you have. I'll use the last of the reserves to beef up the defenses around the Union and bring back the Motherships that are attacking Hera. We've taken two of her frontier worlds, that should be enough punishment for now so we'll simply hold what we've got."

Again, Hek'at could do nothing but nod in agreement. He had been so sure that O'Neill would attack Gryphon that these other strikes had left him completely off-balance. Which is no doubt why he had done it.

A day later…

Alliance Carrier ENS Daniel Jackson

"All right, Carriers, pull back to Point Tango. Destroyer Group 4, move to cover the Susparti Dreadnought. Cruiser Wings 2 and 3, fall back to Mobile Position 1."

O'Neill watched as Admiral of the Fleet Patterson moved his ships with the skill of a samurai master. Like a blade, he used his ships to slash through the enemy formation, cutting a squadron away and battering it into uselessness before doing it again to another part of the enemy.

This was the last strike before the Jackson Battlegroup made for the Rally Point. While Patterson had been busy managing the fight, O'Neill had kept tabs and the rest of the Fleet, which was engaged in six other strikes in systems spread out across six thousand light years. Though each battlegroup had taken losses, they had inflicted more on an unprepared and tactically outnumbered foe. Tok'ra Intelligence had just sent a couple of messages that indicated large-scale ship movements with the Union but they appeared to be re-assignment of ships. Bast appeared to have swallowed the bait and was reassigning every spare ship she had to worlds they had hit and worlds they had no intention of hitting.

He would have to call the first stage of this operation a success.

O'Neill returned his attention to the battle which was beginning to wind down as Patterson tried to disengage from the Motherships defending the repair and resupply world they had chosen to attack.

"The lead Motherships are slowing, Admiral. The appear to be breaking off pursuit." A sensor officer called out.

Patterson nodded. "They're there to defend, not chase." He was satisfied though. A cruiser and three destroyers for two Hat'ak's and six Brel'keht's was a good enough exchange rate for him, especially since the defending force had been larger than they had expected.

"As soon as the Battlegroup clears the gravity well, assume jump formation and head for the Rally Point. Our work here is done."

Interlude

There are moments in battles when you can feel the initiative slipping away, the feeling the enemy is outpacing the ability of you to keep up with. Of course, there are times when you can feel that the armies under your command are slipping their leash, that they have gained too much momentum and you are no longer in control of events. The tide of war is a capricious beast. It can swing either way with no regard for good, for evil, for time or fate. We are at its mercy and we can calculate odds, prepare redundancies but in the end, we are subject to its whims.

Tplus 37h:14m:19s

Kurasaki, Sanctury City #12, Gryphon

Colonel Kerr Avon, CO of SG-Omega, leaned tiredly against the shattered Katana tank. Gunfire sounded in the near distance, echoing of the shattered city blocks, but he ignored it. It wasn't headed in his direction. His combat armor was scratched, dented and worn. The active matrix skin hadn't worked for months and the armor had a glassy appearance on the chest, his right shoulder and his left thigh, each area testament to the heavy plasma blast his armor had absorbed.

"Beta Platoon is engaged in quadrant 5, Kerr." A familiar voice reported wearily.

Colonel Avon looked up at the armored figure beside him and sighed. "Any regulars nearby, Jonas?"

Jonas Quinn shook his head. "They went in to dig out the 316th but were unable to get past the Jaffa skirmish line. There was four Scorpions in support of the attack and the 316th was effectively wiped out."

"Damn." Avon cursed, bouncing a fist off the wrecked tank. That had been the last company-sized formation in the quadrant. "Notify Command, tell them…tell them, 'Jaffa have taken Quadrant 5. We are falling back to Quadrant 4.' "

"And Beta Platoon?" Quinn asked heavily. Ever since Major Capini had been killed four months ago, Captain Jonas Quinn had become SG-Omega's 2IC. When they had first arrived, the thought of Jonas, the Chief Technical Officer, as 2IC would have made everyone, including Jonas, laugh. Now, after a year fighting for every inch of dirt that was Gryphon, Jonas Quinn was as much a combat veteran as any of SG-Omega.

Colonel Kerr Avon thanked the Gods that Quinn had survived and risen to the challenge of combat and leadership. "Tell Beta to disengage and expedite. Quadrant 5 is gonna be swarming with Jaffa soon and we need to figure out how the hell we're gonna stop 'em in Quadrant 4."

As Jonas moved off, issuing orders and passing on reports, Avon looked up at the darkening sky. "Come on, O'Neill, save our butts…"

End of Interlude

August 13th 2010

Outskirts of the Gryphon System

Just outside the Oort cloud, a spherical region of ice asteroids that delineated the boundary of a Solar System, space warped and twisted and with a flash of light, a small black shape dropped out of hyperspace.

Triangular, matt-black and with a rotating dish mounted on a dorsal fin, the Shadow class electronic warfare fighter/bomber immediately cut its engines to minimal operating levels and drifted silently into the cloud of ice and rock.

The same event happened all around the Gryphon system as thirteen other Shadow craft emerged from hyperspace like the proverbial thieves in the night. Silently and very, very stealthily, they drifted in-system, each heading towards a specific area in the outer system.

Major Thomas 'Cypher' Westfield scanned his readouts intently, yet with faint glee, as he maneuvered his Shadow around the massive asteroids. His mission was to remove all Jaffa system-range sensor and jamming capabilities. Grand Fleet would be arriving soon and they would need to be able to co-ordinate with each other if they were to win this battle.

As a Captain, he had flown electronic warfare EA-6 'Intruders' off the deck of the USS Enterprise for eight years before she was decommissioned and he transferred to the new Alliance Fighter Corp, four years earlier. His old bird didn't have a fifth of the capabilities of his new ride, though, and he expertly began to analyse the very weak but increasing emanations from the Jaffa sensor/jamming stations. In less than a minute, he had a good read on them and began to program his own emitters with a counter signal that would effectively cloak his Shadow fighter/bomber from their sensors.

Unseen and unheard, the Shadow craft slipped closer to Gryphon, intent on mayhem.

Union Mothership Fist of the Gods

The Jaffa at the command console frowned deeply as it beeped softly but insistently.

"A problem, Dro'ac?" Hek'at asked quietly.

Second Dro'ac grunted in annoyance. "Sensor station 7 just went offline."

The fourteen platforms of the early warning sensor/jamming network were relatively new technology and despite having been used successfully by the Jaffa Legions for the past year, they were still prone to occasional mechanical failure. In the event one station failed, the other two stations nearest the failure would increase power to cover the gap. An effective system-wide jamming blanket could be maintained with as little as nine platforms, as long as they were spread out in optimum positions.

The sudden loss of one station was of usually of little immediate concern, however, the widespread attacks the Tau'ri had inflicted over the past couple of days had left everyone tense and on edge. They were beginning to jump at shadows…

"Dispatch a tel'tac with a repair crew to station 7." Hek'at ordered tightly.

Dro'ac moved to comply with his orders when the console beeped even more urgently. The Jaffa looked up at Hek'at in alarm. "First Prime, we just lost contact with platforms 8 and 10"

Heads across the bridge turned at that. Hek'at lifted himself out of the command throne and moved next to Dro'ac. The platforms should have detected an approaching Tau'ri vessel. "Mechanical failure?"

"Unknown." Dro'ac replied disgustedly. "The data-feed was fine right up until the fek'shoa-damned machine went offline."

Hek'at senior Second and old friend, Ok'ran cursed all technology, moved over to a secondary control station and began furiously manipulating the console. "Three widely spaced stations don't go offline all at the same time for no reason!"

"Programming error?" Dro'ac wondered.

Hek'at shook his head and glanced at his friend, Ok'ran, across the bridge of the 'Fist of the God's, their eyes meeting in mutual understanding. "All the platforms have the same programming. Why would a software error affect just those three?" The First Prime's mind whirled with possibilities and could only come to a single conclusion, no matter how grim that conclusion was. O'Neill was making his move. As if to confirm that supposition, an alarm began to sound.

"Five more sensor stations just went down!" Dro'ac called out tensely. "Jamming intensity now down by 42%!" A second alarm went off, intensifying the first and then both suddenly shut off, the sudden silence almost strange after the sudden alert. "The last six stations just went dead. Station 12 sensors picked up an extremely faint return just before it went quiet. Too weak to get a positive ID, there was a strange variance to the emission signature but there's a high probability it was Tau'ri."

"Of course it was. Order all ships to full readiness!" Hek'at commanded. "Prepare all surface Legions for local counter-attack. Once the Gryphon military realise the Tau'ri have returned to liberate them, they'll be coming out of the woodwork like Tarkalian worms."

Ok'ran walked slowly over to Hek'at in the ensuing activity of the bridge as they prepared for battle.

"What do you intend to do, old friend?" He asked quietly. "The jamming field is down, and odds are they'll be able to overcome any local jamming we put out…"

Hek'at shrugged slightly. "There's not much room for complex strategies and tactical feints here at Gryphon, anyway." He replied. "O'Neill covets what we have, the planet, which means they have to come to us to get it. They can hardly make us walk into a minefield, now, can they?"

Ok'ran grinned faintly in mild satisfaction. "A straight up fight then."

Hek'at shrugged as a new alarm sounded and Tau'ri vessels began to blink into existence. "Possibly. Remember, Ok'ran, we can't afford to lose too many ships…"

The other Jaffa grimaced. "Hek'at, what's the point of having a Fleet if we're afraid to get it damaged? We may as well engrave invitations for the Tau'ri to come and take our worlds at will…"

The First Prime raised his hand to stop his friend's tirade. His frustration was obvious and understandable. "I never meant we wouldn't fight, Ok'ran, only that we have to choose the time and place to make our stand. If O'Neill's coming to us, it means he's brought enough ships to make him confident of winning. It that's the case, why give him his victory? Instead, let us withdraw, bleeding him in the process with the new weapons and live to fight again at a time and place of _our_ choosing. Never fight on your opponents chosen battlefield, old friend, it generally means he has tricks and resources you can't see…and that will catch you when you're not looking."

Nodding at the wisdom of the statement, Ok'ran turned to watch the display, as the wave of Alliance ships swept towards them.

Alliance Carrier ENS Ark Royal, Third Fleet

As First and Third Fleet shook down into their assault formations, Admiral Kent grimaced slightly as the blips on the tactical hologram that denoted the Motherships, moved closer together, into a familiar, mutually supportive formation. He glanced at his Tactical Action Officer, Commander Singh, who shrugged in silent reply. Neither of them expected to catch them flatfooted.

"First Fleet is launching fighters." The Ark Royal's Flight Ops officer, Captain Matthews, announced tightly.

"Admiral, I've raised the planet, sir! General Roberts would like to speak with you!" The Communications officer called excitedly.

"Onscreen." Kent replied.

For the first time in over a year, a strong, clear transmission was made between the planet of Gryphon and an orbiting Alliance vessel. General Robert's stern visage appeared on the main viewscreen but softened noticeably as he saw the Admiral. Nobody on the planet had forgotten how Kent had almost died trying to defend their world.

"It's good to see you, Admiral." Roberts greeted him.

"Likewise, General." Kent replied simply.

"I have eighteen squadrons of fighters and six of bombers I can have airborne in less than five minutes…" The General announced.

Admiral Kent smiled widely and tried to ignore the sudden unwholesome glee that had appeared in the eyes of his Flight Ops officer. The mission planners for this fight had been unable to anticipate what, if any, resources the Gryphonese might have left and so they had been told to not even try. They had developed a plan that relied only on what they could bring with them.

To make matters worse, Admiral Patterson had decreed that they were to try and retake Gryphon without using Second Fleet, their reserve force. He wanted to keep it untouched and intact for when they went up against Sohag.

The planners had merely shook their heads and tried to accommodate the Admiral's demands as best they could but none of them expected the Fleet to be able to pull it off. To learn now, however, that they had an additional four Wings of fighters and bombers!

Things were looking up.

"Co-ordinate with Captain Matthews, General, but don't get too eager! Hold your line for now, you can be the anvil while the Fleet becomes the hammer." Kent explained.

Roberts simply smiled. 'Acknowledged, Admiral. We've held the line for over a year, I think we can hold it a few more hours. Roberts out." And the General disappeared from the viewscreen and a tactical display replaced his transmission.

"Incoming orders from Fleet Prime, sir!" The Communications officer reported. "Fleet Admiral Patterson has released us to advance on the planet."

"Excellent." Kent replied with a feral smile. "Helm, take us in."

The _Nimitz_, under Rear Admiral Han and the _Ark_ _Royal_, the great carriers of the First and Third Fleets, advanced slowly, a battleship and a handful of destroyer escorts providing cover as the rest of the fleet advanced, separating into five smaller battlegroups, each centered around an Ares-class battleship or Susparti Dreadnought.

Squadron after squadron of fighters and bombers launched from the carriers, the battleships and the cruisers. Even the destroyers could carry a half squadron of fighters, which they launched now.

The first wave of bombers, eight full squadrons, formed up, escorted by twelve squadrons of fighters. All in all, nearly two hundred and forty fighters and bombers, mainly of Alliance ship-types but interspersed with native squadrons from Sintesia, Adena and Suspartii, charged forward towards the Motherships, along with a wing of Tollan corvettes, vessels smaller than destroyers but larger than fighters, which provided a little extra hitting power. Before the Fleet engaged those massive pyramids, Admiral Kent wanted them shaken up a little first.

Sensors beeped for attention as a veritable swarm of udajeets launched from the Motherships, screaming forward to engage the assault wave before they could attack.

Wing Commander Karl Bekker, formerly of the South African Air Force, raised his eyebrows in surprise. The Death Gliders were coming straight in with minimal evasive maneuvers.

"Coming in dumb, boss." His wingman called out over the radio.

"Yeah…" Bekker replied cautiously. "Maybe they're green." Similar reactions were being repeated among the rest of the pilots in the fleet for if the Jaffa entered firing range in the same manner, the Anti-Fighter Missiles would rip them to pieces.

Seconds passed and the range closed rapidly. The tone of good targeting locks rang in every pilot's helmets and they readied themselves for combat. Bekker was becoming increasingly apprehensive at the Jaffa's bold and seemingly suicidal approach and as the Death Gliders finally entered extreme firing range, he came to a decision.

"All fighters, fire at will!" He ordered, far earlier than was expected.

Almost as one, a hundred and forty odd fighters fired first one and then another AFM. At such extreme range, flight time was almost ten seconds but before the missiles were barely halfway there, something strange happened.

The Sabre's sensitive Asgard-derived sensors detected numerous small, spherical objects detaching from the Death Gliders and accelerating towards the assault wave of fighters and bombers rapidly.

Bekker looked at his displays, which registered no target locks coming from the Death Gliders.

"Are they missiles?" His wingman barely had time to call out before the Alliance AFM's exploded amongst the Death Gliders, cutting huge swaths amongst their number.

Whatever they were, Bekker thought, they're on independent guidance. Alliance AFM's required pilots to keep their Sabre's oriented on their targets to ensure a constant lock. The loss of almost half the Death Gliders hadn't seemed to affect the strange objects whatsoever.

"Go evasive!" Bekker ordered.

Seconds later, the swarm of spherical missiles entered the Alliance formation. Several spheres flashed by his fighter, none seeming to alter course in any way to track the maneuvering fighters and bombers. Perhaps they had been affected by the Death Glider's destruction after all, he thought, the beginnings of a smile creeping onto his face, when suddenly everything turned into chaos.

"We're being locked up!" His wingman called out as seemingly every alarm in Bekker's cockpit went off.

"No shit!" Bekker growled and tried to get his Sabre to turn even tighter in his evasive maneuver.

Before the Alliance fighters and bombers had a chance to get clear, every sphere the Death Gliders had fired suddenly exploded as one. Numerous, small sub-munitions flew out from the explosions in all directions. Each submunition seemed to aim itself at an Alliance fighter before exploding and spraying them with shield penetrating flechettes.

Alliance Sabre fighters and Pegasus bombers simply exploded. So did the Adenan Hornet strikefighters and the single squadron of Sintesian interceptors. Susparti Stingers and the Tollan corvettes fared slightly better but only for a minute or two until their onboard reactors finally overloaded from the damage and catastrophically failed. Five planes, ten, entire squadrons disappeared in balls of flame. None escaped the carnage, and few survived the attack.

Out of the two hundred and forty fighters and bombers leading the attack, less than sixty cleared the devastation, along with barely half the corvettes, each unit trailing flame or wreckage as their pilots tried to nurse their craft back towards the carriers.

Panicked calls filled the communication channels as the rest of the Fleet tried to figure out what the hell had happened.

On the bridge of his Shal'kra-class Mothership, Hek'at watched the devastation of the Tau'ri fighter forces with utter satisfaction. "Surprise..."

Alliance Carrier ENS _Daniel_ _Jackson_, Second Fleet

Admiral of the Fleet, Lord Sir Henry Patterson felt the blood drain from his face as several others on in the Flag CIC cried out in shock. O'Neill leaned heavily against the hand-rail, knuckles white under the tight grip.

"What in the hell just happened?!" Carter demanded, as angry as O'Neill had ever seen her. Not waiting for an answer, she strode over to a console and began to review the sensor logs.

The Lieutenant in charge of the sensor section shook his head and brought his attention back to his work. Clearing his throat, he spoke softly in the quiet of the CIC. "Two seconds before the spheres entered the assault wave formation, sensors recorded an energy spike from each unit."

"Arming themselves…" Carter concluded as she watched an enhanced reply of the detonations. "Damn, just like our AFM's." She cursed quietly. Taking a deep breath, she looked up at the Admiral. "Sir, these things are clearly Goa'uld versions of our AFM's. These…'maces', for lack of better word, carry around twenty submunitions, each one an unguided AFM warhead which penetrate our shields just as effectively as our AFM's penetrate theirs." She concluded.

"Dear God…" Patterson breathed out, visualising the damage this new weapon could wreak amongst the Fighter Corp.

"Admiral…" Commander Crayven, Patterson's Tactical Action Officer called out. "The surviving Death Gliders are being reinforced and appear to be moving to attack the First and Third Fleet battlegroups! Admiral Kent is launching the remainder of his fighter groups but their numbers are about even and with this new weapon…"

"Have the Gryphon fighter forces been engaged yet?" He demanded hotly.

"Negative, Admiral." The TAO replied.

Patterson spent several precious seconds coming to a decision. "Order half of Gryphon's birds to engage Hek'at forces and for Christ's sake, tell them to watch out for those 'maces'."

The Daniel Jackson's Flight Ops officer stepped forward. "Advise them to keep their formations dispersed as much as possible and try to destroy any of the maces before they have a chance to arm and detonate. They're large enough to have chance of success."

Patterson nodded in agreement at his officer's quick thinking. "And after you've done that…prepare to take Second Fleet into the fight!"

There was a moment's hesitation, barely a second, and then his staff jumped into action. When everybody was immersed in their tasks, O'Neill moved quietly up next to the Admiral of the Fleet. "What are you thinking, Admiral?"

The British Admiral grimaced slightly. "I know we wanted to try and take Gryphon without using Second Fleet but Kent's going to need the _Jackson's_ fighter wings. Fighter casualties are going to be far worse than anything we had allowed for in the initial ops plan. Jack, you might want to consider holding off on the Sohag strike…"

"No way, Admiral." O'Neill replied flatly. "You know as well as I that if we don't take this opportunity now, it'll be years before we get another shot and the butchers bill will be even worse."

"Then we go with what we have," Patterson yielded. "But those maces are going to keep our fighters and bombers suppressed to a serious degree. I'm not sure if we have enough firepower to slug it out against Bast's defenses on Sohag with just our heavy metal alone."

O'Neill looked thoughtful for a moment before seemingly coming to a conclusion. "Worry about Gryphon for the moment, Admiral. I'll see what I can do about organizing some reinforcements." And then he walked away, towards General Carter. He whispered a few words in her ear and the both of them left the Flag CIC quietly.

Patterson had wanted to ask O'Neill just where he was planning to get his reinforcements from since they had already stripped the Alliance defenses to the bone to form the Grand Fleet but the rising hum of the hyperspace engines meant he had no time. They were going into battle.

The serried ranks of Motherships, numerous golden pyramids, of all sizes, fired yet another massive salvo of plasma bursts at the approaching Alliance ships as the remnants of each sides fighter forces regrouped. With the use of Bast's new tash'khat missiles and the Alliance AFM's, future fighter combat promised to be very bloody and very short, with both sides engaging each other in an orgy of mutual destruction.

Hek'at, seeing the hesitation in the Alliance forces before him after the shocking defeat of their fighter attack, pressed home his advantage and ordered half his ships to advance. The massive pyramids began to move forward, slowly at first but rapidly increasing in speed. Although he had orders to preserve his forces and not to engage in the massive toe-to-toe battle that would result in the destruction of his valuable ships, he saw an opportunity here. The Alliance Fighter Corp was their most effective offensive weapon, far more so than their heavy ships which, until recently, lacked the power to go one-on-one with a Goa'uld vessel; with the fighters and bombers effectively neutralized, he might actually defeat, or at least drive off, the Alliance attack, despite their overwhelming numbers.

As the advancing group of Motherships rapidly closed the distance, space warped and twisted around the space between the Motherships and the Alliance fleet.

Hek'at winced with unpleasant surprise as a second group of Alliance ships screamed out of hyperspace right at the edge of Gryphon's gravity well. Barely half the size the original force, the reinforcements consisted of but a single carrier but were more numerous in the heavier battleships and cruisers. Almost instantly, the new Alliance ships began to pour ion cannon fire into the front elements of the advancing Motherships. Taken by surprise, the Mothership formation fell apart as they tried to evade the sudden obstacle in their path and avoid the incoming fire.

Ion bolts slammed into the Goa'uld shields, which flared with an intense orange glow as they tried to dissipate the intense energies being flung at them. The attack seemed to jolt the Jaffa out of their shock as the Motherships began to return fire. The two forces closed rapidly, flinging plasma blasts and ion bolts at each other, shields collapsed, armour splintered and shattered, explosions wracked vessels on both sides as the skirmish soon dissolved into chaos. Patterson was achieving his objective though, he was pushing the advancing Motherships back, giving Admiral Kent time to re-group.

Union Mothership Fist of the Gods

Hek'at eyed the holographic display with scant favour as it showed the primary group of Alliance ships beginning to move in his general direction, apparently starting to recover from their shock loss of so many fighters. Their course appeared to on a curve that would swing around the battle in the center of the field and allow them to engage his vessels holding the line at Gryphon.

"First Prime, that new carrier battlegroup is launching more fighters!" A Jaffa reported in surprise.

Hek'at looked toward the new arrivals on the tactical display and, noting the Jaffa's expression, smiled briefly. "They're not cowards, Tro'san. Though their fighter losses will be just as hideous as ours, thanks to our respective flechette weapons, they do not shirk from doing what must be done. Order udajeet Group Two to engage those fighters but for the rest of the udajeets, their primary target is that new carrier…and commence broad spectrum jamming. Whoever is in charge over there, and I am sure it is their Admiral Patterson, is both cunning and bold but he has brought his ships into the gravity well from which he cannot readily escape. We must deal with him quickly before the larger initial group of ships can engage us."

"Jaffa, Kree!" The Jaffa replied immediately. Hek'at turned back to the display and watched the large blip that hovered just at the rear of the mass of ships that were hopelessly intermeshed.

"You should not have brought your vessel so close, my friend." He murmured quietly.

A new wave of udajeet swept towards the attacking Alliance fighters and fired their tash'khat missiles once more. The Alliance fighters replied by volleying their AFM's, at which point both groups began evasive maneuvers in order to evade the incoming fire. Missiles and 'maces' exploded and a thousand new stars were born as flechettes pierced shields with impunity and fighters on both sides began to die.

A relatively small group of udajeets held back from this savage conflict, waited until the still plentiful survivors were engaged with each other and then shot forward at a breakneck pace, under the cover of heavy jamming, towards the command carrier that support this engagement, the ENS Daniel Jackson.

The Area Defense Officer onboard the Jackson growled as he adjusted his sensors to burn through the intense jamming being emitted from those Motherships. Alone, the carrier's sensors, although powerful, were being overwhelmed by the sheer power available to the Motherships. He had, however, an extra trick up his sleeve. The new Shadow electronic warfare craft were orbiting the battle, albeit at a safe distance, under stealth. Taking a risk, he opened a data-link feed that was currently unaffected by the jamming, to three of the Shadows and requested their sensor data. Almost immediately information poured over the encrypted, burst transmission data-link and he overlayed their sensor input with the carrier's, building up a composite image that wasn't perfect but showed more than enough. With alarm, he slammed his hand down on his com-link as he simultaneously began to orient his point defense batteries.

"Admiral, incoming Gliders, three echelons worth, heading right for us, sir!" He reported urgently.

Patterson cursed as the new composite overview appeared on the main tactical display. "Have the battlegroup come about and get us clear of the gravity well! Launch the reserve fighters and get our destroyer screen back!"

O'Neill watched as the Flag Staff jumped to comply with his orders and Patterson shook his head in frustration. "I screwed up, old boy. I let us get too deep into Gryphon's gravity well…"

"We needed to intervene, Henry." O'Neill replied quietly. "Kent needed time to regroup, time which we've bought him. Now concentrate on getting us out of this." He advised softly.

Patterson nodded grimly and turned to the display once more. The six reserve fighters had launched and were streaking towards the incoming Death Gliders, firing AFM's for all they were worth. Less than a squadron of destroyers were what remained of the carrier's screen and they quickly slid into position, locking in the data-linked point defense net and interposing themselves between the carrier and the oncoming enemy.

A handful of Death Gliders died from AFM's before the reserve fighters were smashed aside, hardly slowing the swarming horde of Gliders. Seconds later, the destroyer screen opened fire with its point defenses. Fire poured from numerous auto-cannon installations, filling space with trinium alloy flechettes that ripped through shields and light armour with ease. More and more Death Gliders died but still they came on. Half the remnants of lead echelon of Death Gliders broke away from the charging and altered course slightly, towards one of the destroyers, the _McKinley_, that was moving to interpose itself between them and their target. Weapons blazing, plasma blasts from the gliders slammed into the small but relatively powerful destroyer. The _McKinley's_ shields barely held under the pounding but it's Captain resolutely held her position, remaining in their path, silently urging the Death Gliders to break off.

Her mental urgings broke off abruptly as the three remaining Death Gliders held their suicidal course and slammed one after the other into the port side of the destroyer. Internal explosions racked the _McKinley_ and all its weapons stopped firing, its power plant automatically shutting down before it could explode. The remainder of the Death Gliders streaked past the crippled vessel and dived towards the fleeing carrier with now obvious suicidal intent.

The point defenses on the carrier and the surrounding destroyers fired with even more intensity and steadily, one by one, the Death Gliders continued to die. For a moment, Patterson thought they had stopped the suicide attack, but it was not to be. Five Gliders had managed to accelerate past the storm of flechettes, into the clear for a few precious seconds. Weapons blazing, three Gliders slammed into the carrier's powerful shields.

The massive vessel heaved with the impact and numerous crewmen and women that were unsecured, slammed against bulkheads and against consoles.

"Aft and starboard shields are down!" The ADO called out. "We've taken damage to…"

O'Neill never found out what they had taken damage to as the last two Death Gliders slammed into the carrier, one behind the bridge and one amidships, with terrific force. Consoles across the Flag CIC exploded, sending their operators flying. The ceiling bulkhead exploded near to Admiral Patterson and the supporting structure collapsed around him and Commander Crayven, his TAO, who pushed the senior man to the floor while simultaneously trying to cover him with his body.

O'Neill turned in his seat to look over at Sam, who was similarly strapped into a chair near the sensor station. He opened his mouth to speak but was forced to clamp down on a surge of pain as his seat straps cut deeply into him as he was thrown forward hard as the lights flickered and died, plunging everything into darkness.

Alliance Carrier ENS _Ark Royal_

"Admiral, the _Jackson_…" An ensign reported fearfully.

Kent watched the secondary display grimly. "I see it." He replied quietly. The _Daniel Jackson_ appeared to be relatively intact albeit with massive damage to several areas. Powerless and adrift, the carrier hung silently in space as the combatants across the battlefield seemed to pause in order to take stock of the sight.

Commander Singh, the _Ark Royal's_ TAO, pointed towards the tactical display and blips that represented the Goa'uld Fleet, which were beginning to move away from the battlefield. "Hek'at's withdrawing, Admiral."

Glancing at the main display, Admiral Kent quickly came to a decision. "We've only got time for one pass before they clear the gravity well. All ships, except for the carriers, increase to flank speed! Concentrate your fire and take out as many of the enemy as you can, while you can."

Union Mothership Fist of the Gods

Hek'at sighed with satisfaction. They had inflicted significant casualties upon the Tau'ri today and he would love to remain in order to finish the job but Bast had given him his orders. He was to preserve his forces at any cost, even if that cost was giving up Gryphon, something he and his Jaffa had fought and died to suppress for the better part of a year. However much that grated, he knew she was right. The Union was severely lacking in Motherships at the moment, fighting their two-front war, and Gryphon wasn't worth the price of losing the war. Besides, despite the damage he had inflicted here today, the Alliance had more than enough ships present, to overcome the rest of his forces.

"All ships, fall back. We leave the Tau'ri to Tal'mac and our Jaffa on the ground now. We are going home."

As Hek'at forces began to pull away from the rapidly closing Alliance ships, a squadron of destroyers streaked forward and charged right up to a Hat'ak, pelting it continually with ion bursts. The Mothership's shields flickered wildly as its return fire found one destroyer and ripped it apart. Several plasma bursts also slammed into the aft section of a destroyer gutting its drive section, leaving the small ship to drift powerless and out of the fight.

Luckily for the crew of the helpless destroyer, a King William class cruiser, the ENS _Rodger Young_, had been close on their heels and its follow on volley of ion bolts brought the Motherships shields down completely. Almost without pause, its particle lance sent an intensely powerful beam of energy raking across the unshielded hull of the Mothership. The hull melted and ran as the beam cut deep into its vitals.

Flame and wreckage erupted in the beam's wake and the Mothership shuddered with internal explosions. The cruiser deftly glided out of the way as a long-range volley of ion cannon fire, from the Ares class battleships that paced the retreating Motherships, swept in and slammed against the ruined face of the Hat'ak. It was all too much and the Hat'ak simply exploded.

A Shal'kra and three Brel'keht's also joined the Hat'ak in death before, one by one, the Motherships escaped into hyperspace.

Slowing down, the destroyers and cruisers came about and headed back to the battleships, dreadnoughts and carriers. Many of the Fleet were angry that the Goa'uld occupation force had decided to retreat. Though they had taken losses, the damage inflicted upon the enemy had been generally light compared to the fact that the total annihilation of the force had been the objective. No one had expected them to run for it and even now, Fleet analysts were going over observed data on enemy ship numbers over the course of the conflict, for the Union was beginning to show a serious sensitivity to ship losses, even more so than usual.

Perhaps, the analysts began to question, they were lacking ships even more than was generally believed.

In the background, the blue, green and white orb of Gryphon hung in the background. The analysis of enemy numbers could, however, wait. They had a planet to liberate.

Alliance Carrier ENS _Daniel Jackson_

Consoles sparked and small fires flickered around the CIC, giving off small amounts of light as O'Neill lifted his head up to look around and grunted in pain. The straps had held but his shoulders were very sore. Ruthlessly ignoring the pain, he pressed the release on the chair and staggered upright. The smoky atmosphere that floated above the chair made him choke but he turned towards the last place he saw Carter and found she was also getting to her feet. She appeared to have a nasty gash near her left temple. "You okay, Carter?"

She leaned heavily against a nearby console but nodded wearily. "Shaken but okay, Jack."

O'Neill bit back a sigh of relief and gestured to the Damage Control repeater station. Damage Control was the domain of the ship's commander, Captain DuPont, but the Flag CIC had a repeater console that allowed the Admiral to stay advised of the ship's status. "See if you can find out what's going on with the rest of the ship."

As Carter nodded her acknowledgement, O'Neill gingerly made his way across the wreckage of the CIC, to the mass of debris under which the Admiral was buried, along with his TAO, Commander Crayven. A painfully young ensign was desperately ripping at the debris to get at the Admiral, straining to lift a heavy sheet of armour plating.

O'Neill swiftly grabbed the end of the wreckage opposite to the ensign and grunted audibly as he tried to lift his end up. The wreckage shifted slightly and with their combined efforts, they managed to slide the twisted metal sheet to one side. The ensign gasped as the cleared wreckage revealed the bloody and shattered body of Commander Crayven.

A barely audible groan emanated from under the body and O'Neill flinched in shock. Eyes wide, the ensign gingerly tried to shift the lifeless body of the TAO. The man's shoulders moved to one side slightly but the rest of his body was hopelessly twisted and trapped with the rest of the wreckage in an unholy tangle of metal and flesh. It was enough however, the reveal the deathly pale face of Lord Sir Henry Patterson, Admiral of the Fleet.

"Henry…" O'Neill called out with worry.

The older man's eyes opened slowly to reveal his left eye complete red from ruptured blood vessels. "Jack…the fleet?"

O'Neill exhaled heavily. He didn't know what the hell was going on outside the hull of the ship. "Hek'at was beginning to fall back when we were hit. We've taken a beating but we're still here so I'd have to say Gryphon's ours again."

Patterson closed his eyes in satisfaction. "Good." He replied softly and fell silent.

Slowly, O'Neill reached out and placed two fingers against the Admiral's neck. There was a pulse, weak but there nonetheless. He looked towards the ensign. "See if you can get a medic up here and stay with him."

"Aye, General." The ensign replied softly and O'Neill climbed heavily to his feet. The Flag CIC was a scene from Hell itself and closely resembled an abattoir with the dead strewn across the wreckage like so much battered meat. He purposefully made his way over to Carter who was working furiously with a surviving Lieutenant from the weapons section.

"The ship's a mess, Jack." Carter reported. "We've got fires on all decks. Hanger bays 4, 5 and 6 are completely gutted…I'll be amazed if anyone survived down there. Engines are offline, so are shields, weapons and main power. Life-support's on auxiliary power and damage control teams are trying to get to the damaged trunk lines to get the mains back on line before we run out of battery power."

"Communications?" O'Neill asked.

Carter worked the console for several seconds before grunting in slight but wry amusement. "Communications actually has power, it's just the receiver/transmitter array was taken out by the kamikaze."

O'Neill sighed. "Do what you can to help." He replied before turning away to help find any survivors.

Chapter 5

D-Day Redux

04:11 ZULU

August 14th 2010

Defense Command Centre, Edo City, Gryphon

Staring at the bright green 'ready status' icon of the ENS _Daniel Jackson_, General Tyler shook his head in wonder. It had taken several hours for the rescue units dispatched from the other ships of Grand Fleet to finally bring the damage to the ENS _Daniel_ _Jackson_ under control. Almost half the crew had been killed in the primary and secondary explosions and the carrier would be in the yard for several months as a result but O'Neill and the survivors had, somehow, managed to get the carrier back into limited operation. A few squadrons of fighters and bombers had re-embarked the carrier but most had been reassigned to the rest of Grand Fleet to make up for the losses to the Death Glider's new weapon.

The real worry so far was Fleet Admiral Patterson. He was in a critical but stable condition in the Royal Palace's hospital wing, receiving the best care he could get from the Royal Family's personal doctors. With Patterson injured, there was some debate as to who would lead Grand Fleet in action against Sohag. Most expected command to fall to Admiral Kent but there was no clear line of succession. A significant number of Fleet personnel, both human and alien, felt that Admiral J'Thuk should be elevated to Fleet Admiral. Admiral J'Thuk, now once again in command of Second Fleet now that the _Daniel Jackson_ was out of action, had brooked no argument and had stated to O'Neill that he had no interest in commanding Grand Fleet while Admiral Kent was available, noting that Kent had been acting as the de facto commander since Patterson was injured anyway, and was doing a fine job of it. While embarrassed by his Sintesian friend's confidence, Kent quickly assumed official command of Grand Fleet and had his aide spend a few moments to draw up a clear command hierarchy amongst the senior admirals of the Fleet.

Though Tyler was generally in awe of the Alliance and its members, he took a kind of perverse pleasure in noting that they weren't perfect and that they made mistakes just like any other sentient. In this case, it would appear to have been a blindspot caused by having so many individual navies contributing to the Alliance whole, no one want the responsibility of drawing up a hierarchy that would place one admiral over another and possibly causing an interstellar diplomatic faux pas.

All this rank wrangling lasted but a short while and mattered little in the short term.

The rest of Grand Fleet was still in the Gryphon inner system, replenishing supplies from their colliers, readying themselves for the final hyperspace jump to Sohag. They were merely waiting to rearms and themselves and to see how the initial assaults on Gryphon fared.

Earlier, Tyler had observed General Roberts in discussion with the King and Queen in front of the main display. The King and Queen were obviously horrified to see so many deaths to the Alliance forces as they had hit Hek'at's fleet hard but try as he might, he couldn't share their horror…yet. This was not because he was a cold, hard man, but because the total deaths from the fighting in space were but a tithe of the total casualties that were soon to be inflicted on both sides as the Gryphon Army, now backed with heavy Alliance support, moved in to take the fourteen occupied sanctuary cities from a massive, well equipped and well entrenched Jaffa force.

The King and Queen had now removed themselves to the observation lounge that overlooked the command center when O'Neill had finally arrived.

The _Jackson_ had taken up a stationary orbit around Gryphon, along with the dozens of massive troop transports that had arrived from staging points around the Alliance. Almost a million soldiers were currently in system, waiting amongst the transports. The majority of these were earmarked for Gryphon but four of the transports, each carrying around twenty thousand troops, were heading to Sohag with Grand Fleet.

General Tyler tore his eyes away from the diamond dust specks of Grand Fleet on the secondary display and looked towards General Roberts. The final pieces were in position. Fifteen hundred Orca assault shuttles, packed with 150,000 troops, took up formation, awaiting the word to begin.

He also had the last of his reserve divisions ready for a major counter attack on the occupied Sanctuary cities that would also hopefully distract the Jaffa as the assault birds made their runs under the shield canopies.

It was time.

Roberts stepped up to the main console that overlooked to array of consoles and their operators. "Initiate 'Redemption'."

As one officer activated the 'Redemption' timeline, another officer sent out the pre-arranged communication signal to Spearhead.

Command Centre, Spearhead

Major DeSoto took a deep breath as the signal arrived and turned to Sgt Jenkins, who sat at the command console. "Dial it up." He ordered.

"Aye, sir." Jenkins replied. His fingers blurred over the keyboard and seconds later, the Stargate rumbled to life. Everyone watched intently as the chevrons locked into place, one after the other. Though it felt like a lifetime, the last chevron finally locked into place and the Stargate exploded into life.

DeSoto said nothing as he let his people do their jobs. Sgt. Jenkins signaled for the techs in the Gate Facility to send the assault probes through.

The entire Command Centre watched the viewscreen intently as the first of the heavily armoured probes rolled up the ramp.

General Foster, CO of the 'Spartans', stood before the Stargate, along with his assembled unit, and watched the squat assault probes trundle forward. Based on the old MALP vehicle, they had added thick armour and a twin railgun mount that gave the vehicle a punch way out of proportion to its size. The squat 'mini-tank' rolled up to the shimmering, quicksilver surface of the wormhole and drove straight in, behind it, another seven vehicles fearlessly followed the lead probe into the wormhole.

Previous attempts at dialing the Stargate on Gryphon had shown that Bast utilizing the Iris technology they had left behind. More than a few Stargates on key Union worlds were being outfitted with Iris shields built by Bast. This had long caused a problem among the Assault Corp, forcing them to pick other targets or other methods of infiltration such as dropships from orbit.

Today, with the help of the Tollan, they were going to rewrite the book on wormhole assaults.

The assault probe was fitted with an Alliance phase unit, based on Tollan tech, that allowed its wearer to pass through solid matter unhindered for up to two minutes. The same technology that, thanks to a tactical review written by Teal'c earlier in the year, was being outfitted to the Mod 3 Combat Armour; the same armour with which his Spartans had spent the past two months training in and were now wearing.

Lt Col Samuel Lyman glanced at the General and then returned his gaze to the repeater display that showed the feed from the probe. "Think all this new tech will work, General? Because I gotta say, being turned into a thin smear of jam at the other end of this here wormhole isn't all that appealing."

Foster shrugged helplessly. "I'm from the old school, Sam. I grew up with the M-16 and we only used computers to keep track of the payroll. Now, every third soldier is a computer whiz and we can travel fast-than-light. You and that armour of yours could whip a regiment of pre-Alliance main battle tanks and we're holding this discussion on another planet. Sam, if I think about the technology too much, I'd have to admit defeat and retire."

Lyman smiled wryly. "So why haven't you retired?"

The static on the repeater screen cleared to show a familiar hall, full of Jaffa. Almost instantly, the Jaffa began to open fire on the probe to completely no effect. At least initially. The Phase Device had a very limited operational lifetime before having to shut down. This wan't due to any particular power issues as Carter had initially theorized but more to do with the long term effect of phasing on the molecules of an object. If an object was to phase for more than 271 seconds, the 'inertia' attached to the phased molecules would become permanent and would be unable to rejoin their original phase. Therefore, the standard operating time of the Alliance Phase unit was 150 seconds, at which point, the device automatically pushed its wearer back into phase with the rest of the universe.

As it did with the probe now.

Foster gestured to the screen. "Cause despite all the technology we have, they'll never be a substitute for an intelligent, well-trained, ground pounder."

Despite the armor, the first assault probe was wrecked by staff weapon fire in less than a minute. A minute, however, was more than long enough for the other seven vehicles to arrive and form a half circle around the Stargate. Staff blasts and railgun fire flew back and forth, numerous Jaffa died but one by one, the rest of the probes began to die with them.

As the telemetry from the forth probe went offline, the General turned to Colonel Lyman. "Send the first wave, Sam."

Lyman gave a sharp nod of acknowledgement and press the recessed button on his neck plate, deploying his helmet around his head in seconds. Fully outfitted for battle, the Lt Colonel pointed towards the first group of armoured troops near the base of the ramp. "1st Platoon, phase shift and move out!"

The ramp shook as the lead platoon, followed swiftly by Lyman and his 2IC, ran up towards the wormhole. As they ran forward, each soldier seemed to shimmer and fade slightly as they engaged their phase devices and ran into the wormhole.

Embarkation Chamber, Wakazi Base

The Jaffa Second Tal'mac flinched as a railgun round slammed into the overturned cargo container he was using for cover and cursed as it nearly punched through. The damned Tau'ri machines were dying but they had managed to clear an area around the base of the Chappa'ai and it was only a matter of time before Alliance soldiers began pouring through the Chappa'ai.

Peering over the lip of the container, Tal'mac eyed the damned Iris with complete disgust. The Chappa'ai had exploded to life and he had ordered the Iris closed. This happened every other week as the Tau'ri kept testing their defenses. This time however, those squat metal monsters had simply trundled through the metal shield as if it wasn't there! Sliding back behind the container, he grunted in mild satisfaction. Fortunately, his Jaffa were always prepared and they had dispatched the first probe in short order but the others had followed quickly and pushed them back from the wormhole and for the life of him, he didn't know how he was going to be able to stop the Tau'ri from coming through!

"Second, look!" Another Jaffa called out. Spinning upright, Tal'mac turned to face the Chappa'ai, only to see an armoured soldier suddenly standing in front of the Iris. Shimmering like a heatwave, the soldier quickly ran down to the half circle of dead machines and took cover. A steady stream of Alliance soldiers began to appear through the Iris and followed suit.

A few Jaffa opened fire at the soldiers but their staff blasts simply passed through them like ghosts, hitting the metal shield behind them.

"Aim for the soldiers that are already behind cover!" He ordered with frustration. He knew the obviously Tollan devices would keep them safe for at least a minute until the began to run the risk of being permanently phased and the units had to be turned off. A loud WHOOSH filled the large chamber of the Gryphonese facility as a missile flew out from the Tau'ri positions and slammed into a group of Jaffa on the far side of the hall. The subsequent explosion ripped the group apart and the shockwave rocked everyone in the large but essentially enclosed area.

That missile had just taken out his ready reserve force before it had had a chance to alter the battle to any extent and he lacked the numbers to overrun their positions in a mass charge. There was no choice; the Alliance had managed to secure the Chappa'ai. Tal'mac spat a particularly vile Jaffa curse and grabbed the Jaffa who acted as his communications officer. "Have all units fall back to the second level! Recall a Legion, no two, from the base perimeter…the 1241st and 894th I think, and have them meet us on the second level. We'll barricade there and hopefully keep them bottled up down here!"

His brain told him that none of it really mattered, especially against these new armoured Alliance troops. The Union Fleet had been kicked out of the Gryphon system and he didn't think the Alliance would allow it to fall into Goa'uld hands once more. His orders from Hek'at had been to stay behind and hold out for as long as possible. Quietly, the big First Prime had told him that if he felt that further fighting would prove pointless, he would be allowed to surrender his forces with no shame.

The very idea had shocked Tal'mac to the core and his instant denial of any such surrender had caused Hek'at to smiled softly and with great sadness.

Now, as he watched his, HIS, Jaffa fall back, dying under the weapons of the Alliance for what was effectively a lost cause, the idea of surrender didn't seem so impossible.

Goa'uld Union High Command, Sohag

Bast stared unblinkingly at the hologram of the local section of the Galaxy, her face blank with concentration.

Gryphon was a lost cause. It had taken that world and the futile attack on Earth to prove to her that invading a fully prepared world with a near equal tech base was a losing proposition in the long run against a multi-world polity like the Alliance.

What was O'Neill's next move going to be? She shook her head. There was simply too many opportunities for him. She found herself unable to do nothing but react to his moves and that was a losing proposition. She needed to turn it around, dammit!

The glowing red icon of the Alliance fleet burned brightly neared the sphere that represented Gryphon. His Fleet was the main threat at the moment. In another year, enough construction would come on line in order to allow her to resume an offensive posture but the Tau'ri could use that year to build even more ships.

Think!

They were losing the war. A conventional war. She needed something unconventional.

The red glow of the Alliance fleet burned in her mind. Suddenly, she turned to the Jaffa Second attending her. "Order the guardian Motherships from all the Core Worlds within two days travel to converge on Sohag with all speed!"

The Second hesitated. That order would leave a lot of the Core Worlds uncovered.

Bast smiled with surprising patience. "I know it sounds crazy but send the order." She prodded gently.

The Second nodded with severely suppressed reluctance and moved to comply with her order. As she watched him go, Bast thought hard about what she was about to do. The Alliance Fleet was now an impressive force of ships and they have shown themselves to have an impressive capacity for building them quickly. If she could destroy it or at least severely damage that fleet to a certain extent, it wouldn't alter the overall balance of power insomuch as it would provide the Union with enough breathing room to regroup.

Pulling every Mothership from the defenses of the Core Worlds to preemptively attack the Alliance Fleet was an incredible risk but it was so unconventional that there was no way O'Neill would expect it.

Assuming the Jaffa on Gryphon could keep them occupied for another four days…

ENS _Daniel Jackson_

As he made his way along a secondary corridor on his way to the bridge, O'Neill squeezed past two damage control crew that were leaning inside a damaged bulkhead, repairing severed control runs and power feeds. Slowly but surely, the _Jackson_ was coming back to life. Even now, the surviving embarked Assault Force troopers were ceasing their limited but helpful efforts at damage control as more and more qualified engineers were brought aboard. Those same troopers were now getting prepared for the assault on the besieged Gryphon Sanctuary cities.

They only had to wait a little longer before the Spartans who, even as repairs were still ongoing, were driving hard against the heart of Wakazi. From orbit, Intelligence had watched with satisfaction as numerous Jaffa were being pulled off the defensive perimeter around Wakazi in order to counter the unexpected threat at their center. O'Neill sent a silent thanks once more to Teal'c who had convinced the right people to utilize the Tollan phase technology in a 'politically acceptable' way.

Unbidden, O'Neill let out a snort of disgust at the thought that sending a phased Naquadria bomb through the Stargate was tantamount to genocide and totally unacceptable, but sending their soldiers through a wormhole one by one to be killed as it they were entering a meat grinder was acceptable?

Politicians!

Level 6, Wakazi Base, Gryphon

Eight hours after the initial Stargate assault, Lt Col Samuel Lyman swiped a sleeve across his dirty face and took stock of the suddenly silent corridors of the sixth level in Wakazi Base. His men and women had fallen back to their positions on the fifth level and the Jaffa were regrouping on the seventh. There were eleven floors between the Gate Embarkation Chamber and the surface of Wakazi and nearly every corridor in-between was strewn with hundreds of Jaffa and Alliance soldiers dead. The fighting had been fierce and bloody as he and the Spartans simultaneously held off counter-attacks and advanced section by bloody section. The Jaffa commander had the Stargate recharge periods timed to a nicety and was throwing everything he had at them everytime the twenty minute cooling off period came round.

Fortunately, the Spartans, in their Mod 3 Combat Armour, were an exceptionally tough nut to crack and though their lines had bent, they had held and the vast numbers of Jaffa on the surface were forced by the confined corridors of the base to attack his defenses in a relative trickle, rather than the flood they would have been on the surface.

Looking at his 2IC, Lyman grimaced tiredly as the trudged down a secured corridor. Equally tired troopers sat heavily along the sides as they took what was essentially their first break in six hours of constant fighting. "How many Legions do you think we've pulled off the line so far?"

Major LeHavre gave a Gallic shrug. "We have around three hundred dead and twice that wounded. The Jaffa dead are knee deep in some places, no? They must have taken nearly three times that. I'd say we've wiped out the better part of a Legion and tied down yet another three. Intelligence stated that Wakazi was being held by fifteen to twenty Legions, so…" He trailed off expectantly.

Lyman nodded. "We've put a dent in them all right." He came to a decision, though his men were far from fought out, they needed time to regroup. "Have the Spartans dig in and hold. I'm calling in the orbital assault!"

ENS Ark Royal, Grand Fleet Flagship

Fleet Admiral Kent stood in front of the massive bridge viewport and stared morosely at the brutally wounded carrier, the ENS Daniel Jackson. The damage was finally under control but from the outside, the shattered hanger bays were a gaping wound that no amount of damage control could hide. The fact that she had held together was a testament to the designers of the class.

Kent's TAO, Commander Singh, strode up to the Admiral holding a datapad. "Admiral, we've received a signal from the surface, sir…its Lt Col Lyman. He says he's pushed as far as he can for now, and requests we send in the assault while he regroups."

Taking the datapad from Commander Singh, Kent read Lyman's transmission and looked up, out of the viewport, towards the serried ranks of assault shuttles, packed full of Alliance Marines, awaiting his word.

"Send them in, Commander, and notify General Roberts to initiate his counter-attack."

Hundreds upon hundreds of pilots received the attack order from the Fleet Flag and, almost as one, punched their engines to full power and screamed towards Gryphon on dozens of different courses. All heading to either Wakazi or the first seven occupied Sanctuary cities to be liberated.

Onboard Dropship 67-Charlie, of Fleet Assault Wing Tango, War-Major J'Nal gripped the flight controls in his massive paws, his snout stretched back in smile.

"You really dig this shit, huh?" A youthful voice commented beside him.

The bear-like Sintesian turned to look at his co-pilot, Ensign Rawley. "Kid, I was dropping on Jaffa while you were still in your mother's pouch."

"Enabling ATMO flight surfaces…Human's don't have pouches, 'Nal." Rawley stated and smiled absently as the dropship begin to rattle. They were beginning to hit atmosphere.

"Confirm ATMO. We're in the track. The humans on Altair IV have pouches…" J'Nal countered as they pierced the atmosphere and the air turned to flame outside the ship.

Ensign Rawley flipped several controls and shook his head. "They don't count. They used to be Jaffa, ten thousand years ago, till the System Lords forgot about them."

The view outside began to clear as quickly as it had been obscured and far below them, in the distance, they could see the massive military city of Wakazi.

Orange flashes winked across the cityscape and, seconds later, plasma bursts began to explode all around them.

"INCOMING!" Some other dropship pilot called out over the radio. Quite uselessly, J'Nal thought. "There go the corvettes." He announced as the larger Tollan craft accelerated forward and began to intercept incoming plasma blasts with precise bursts from their fast tracking cannons. They couldn't stop them all but they managed to reduce the incoming fire by a significant percentage. A small corner of his mind noted that this defensive fire was as nothing compared to what was expected from the Fortress Palace on Sohag. Rumor Central had it that there was something new and very hush, hush in the wind regarding that upcoming attack, something that wouldn't require the Fleet Assault Wings to commit suicide dropping in on Core World defenses.

"Range to target, six hundred klicks." Rawley announced and pushed a button that activated the intercom to the troops in the bay. "Hang on, ladies and gentlemen, things are about to get a little rough."

"Time to get low, kid." J'Nal growled in anticipation and pushed the flight controls forward. The nose of the dropship pitched forward steeply and the speed increased rapidly as the small craft screamed towards the ground like a comet.

Rawley glanced out the window and checked his displays. "The rest of the group is with still with us, Major."

"Good." J'Nal murmured. "We're on final approach." The dropship rocked as a plasma blast exploded close by. The flak bursts were increasing in intensity and accuracy as the range dropped rapidly. A Tollan corvette dropped in front of the assault wave and, cannons blazing, intercepted a heavy and well targeted volley of plasma fire. Unfortunately, the crew's single-minded determination to protect the transports allowed a second, almost simultaneous volley of plasma blasts to slam into the corvette. It's shields coruscated in energy. Blast after blast slammed into the protective skin of energy that ultimately failed. Raw energy ate away at the incredibly strong alloy, ripping into the heart of the corvette which exploded in a smear of flame.

Jaw clenched tight, J'Nal silently said a prayer for the brave souls of the corvette and jammed the stick forward, dumping altitude rapidly, as another volley of plasma swept towards them.

Wakazi Base, Kesh quadrant (Sector Nine)

Jaffa Second T'oak cursed as the volley of fire from one of his energy cannons of anti-aircraft battery Kesh-12 flew over the top of an Alliance dropship that nimbly dropped several metres. "Retarget and fire again, you near-sighted dogs!" He shouted at his gunners.

Suddenly, something screamed low over their heads and slammed into a heavy artillery regiment six hundred metres behind them. The massive explosion and its resulting shockwave rocked them hard and several Jaffa muttered prayers to the Gods.

"Fire, damn you all!" T'oak screamed as the cloud of dropships and their fighter escorts close rapidly. "FIRE!"

The energy weapons of anti-air battery Kesh-12 opened fire and plasma blasts filled the air around the Alliance craft. The streams of fire reached out like individual fingers of flame and as they touched the incoming Alliance ships, they exploded into smears of flame, wreckage and shattered bodies.

As T'oak saw at least a corvette, three dropships and two bombers explode, he cheered along with his men. As they wildly celebrated their victory, the Second scanned the sky and saw two bombers streak under the canopy shield toward them, two orange flames blossoming to life underneath each of their wings.

T'oak drew back in alarm and turned to alert his still celebrating men to the danger but stopped. They wouldn't able to get clear in time anyway. _Let them enjoy their last moments. At least we have done our duty._

Four AGM-265 Wolverine missiles slammed in and around the light cannons of battery Kesh-12 and the world of T'oak and his Jaffa turned to flame.

"Hold on!" J'Nal growled out as he jerked the controls of his Orca dropship and slammed the bulky vessel into the dusty surface of Gryphon.

Ensign Rawley punched a switch on the control panel and the main doors in the rear swung open. Small launchers on the back of the dropship flipped open and began firing numerous multi-spectral smoke canisters in all directions, creating a billowing cloud that prevented positive locks from Jaffa weaponry.

"Clear the bay!" The crew chief in back screamed as he slammed his controls and released the drop harnesses that secured the troops in their seats.

Shouting almost incoherently, the company commanders and NCO's led their men rapidly out of the back of the dropship and into the protective smoke cloud. Along massive stretches of the shattered Wakazi perimeter, thousands of Alliance Ground Force troops were deploying into the remains of the Jaffa lines. Cratered trenches still provided a modicum of cover that allowed the ground Force to gain a foothold in and around Wakazi.

Though the outer perimeter of the Jaffa-held Wakazi defenses had been essentially destroyed in several sectors, the inner line of defense was practically untouched. Several flights of Pegasus bombers streaked over the heads of the Alliance infantry and plastered the Jaffa lines with a hurricane of missiles and ion cannon fire. Explosions rippled across the line but an answering storm of staff blasts and energy cannon fire blotted several bombers from the sky before the others retreated to a safe distance.

"Are all our people out?" War-Major J'Nal asked his co-pilot. Jaffa artillery was had shifted from the now under-cover Alliance troops and their energy shells were beginning to fall in and around the grounded dropships.

Rawley nodded in the affirmative as the crew chief in back had just signaled their empty status with a green light. "Good to go!"

Without hesitation, J'Nal slammed the throttles forward and pulled back on the control stick. The whine of the anti-grav units increased as the AG clusters along to bottom of the craft pushed the dropship into the air. The main drives kicked in and the Orca shot forward, away from the landing zone, keeping low until they were clear of the shield and the long-range anti-aircraft batteries. The other Orcas of Assault Wing Tango were spread out behind them.

J'Nal, having completed his part of the assault, relaxed slightly. _The rest is up to them._

Alliance Marines swarmed across the wreckage of the Jaffa perimeter. Staff blasts slammed into the ground in and around them. They replied with autocannon, railgun and light ion cannon fire. Energy flew back and forth and soldiers died but the Jaffa Legions were shaken by the overwhelming speed of the Alliance assault.

Jaffa tactics were to drop the men off far from the front and march into battle. Using any craft smaller than a Mothership to land soldiers under fire had never been widely used, but then, the System Lords were never known for their subtlety. Simply landing a Mothership on their enemy's position usually sufficed to overcome any foe.

Regardless, the Jaffa had experienced such assaults before, albeit on a far smaller scale and the experienced veterans amongst the Jaffa contingent were calling in for massive fire support to smash the Alliance beachhead before it could expand further.

Unfortunately, with the exception of one or two particularly well situated commanders, as the Jaffa tried their communicators, all they were met with was the banshee squeal of a powerful jamming signal.

Second Tal'mac sighed heavily as his field command post, an armoured weapons locker on the surface, but near the center of Wakazi, was rocked from a nearby explosion. That one had been close. He grimaced wryly at his own unwitting joke. His 'command post' was little more than a well-defended bunker. Nearly all of his communications were being jammed and his Second's mobile command posts were being picked off one by one.

Like valkyries, the Alliance had swept down over his outer defenses and entire sections of the line had seemed to dissolve. Where Jaffa had stood facing outward, now stood Tau'ri, facing inward. He told himself that it wasn't his men's fault, that Hek'at had captured this base easily enough the first time, why shouldn't it be hard a second time. As long as the attacker has the initiative and enough men, there was very little he would be able to do. He certainly hadn't expected to have to fight an enemy inside his own base but no one had expected them to walk right through the metal shield the Tau'ri called the Iris.

Who would have thought that since the damned Tollan's had joined the Alliance , they would practically give them the phasing technology that they had jealously guarded for hundreds of years, allowing their soldiers to pierce the defenses he had erected around the chappa'ai. Diverting soldiers from the perimeter in order to retake the chappa'ai had only resulted in a weakened perimeter, hundreds of dead Jaffa in the corridors of the base, and an interstellar gateway that was still in enemy hands. He felt a dark suspicion that the movement of Jaffa had been an intentional objective.

"The chappa'ai is active once more." A Jaffa announced from across the bunker.

Damn.

Another 38 minutes of incoming reinforcements…figure about one hundred soldiers every minute…this position was simply untenable.

"Begin pulling our remaining cohorts back from inside the base. We can't retake the chappa'ai and we sure as hell can't match them for numbers anymore…"

Another Jaffa looked up from his map tablet. "And go where? Another three Legion-equivalents are heading in from the west!"

"Then we'll fight our way out!" Tal'mac roared in reply. He stormed over to the Jaffa with the tablet and ripped it from his grasp. "Bring all our reserves to the northern perimeter, there's a gap there we can exploit! We'll load everyone onto the remaining al'kesh and pra'kesh transports and head for Kawa."

"Kawa's being attacked as well!" Another Jaffa exclaimed with a little more panic in his voice than Tal'mac would have liked.

"Yes but not as hard as here. If we storm north, we can counter-attack from their rear and, Bast willing, punch through to Kawa." Tal'mac countered and suddenly, an idea occurred to him. Thinking furiously, he accessed the map tablet and brought up his planetary troop deployments.

"New orders!" He called out after a moment's scrutiny of the tablet. "I want every available erg of power directed to our remaining emitters. We need to pierce the jamming and get a signal to the other occupation forces…have them make a fighting withdrawal to the cities of Kawa, Okisoto, Isi and Agawa. We'll consolidate our remaining forces and make the price of retaking those four cities too high for the Alliance to contemplate."

Defense Command Centre, Edo City, Gryphon

General Roberts held his hands tightly behind his back as he studied the numerous secondary repeater displays that were arrayed in front of his command desk. He was too nervous to sit. Each display showed the various assaults that were occurring all over the planet. The Jaffa were being pushed hard on all fronts, especially amongst sthe recently taken Sanctuary cities where they hadn't had all that long to fortify their positions.

"The secondary divisions are moving in now." General Tyler commented from beside him.

Roberts nodded absently as he studied the Wakazi attack with added focus. Their troop dispositions had begun to change across the entire base, it looked like…

"Lt Col Lyman is reporting all Jaffa inside the base have pulled back." A communication tech reported in rising jubiliation. "His forces are advancing through base once more and are encountering zero opposition."

Another technician looked up at the General. "The line of defenses in the south of Wakazi are pulling back, collapsing in on themselves."

Tyler growled in satisfaction. "A general retreat."

"To where?" Roberts wondered out loud. The displays showed the Jaffa assembling in the northern sectors of the base. The east and western flanks of the Jaffa perimeter were keeping his troops back in an astounding display of firepower but they wouldn't be able to keep such concentrations up for long.

The electronic warfare officer stepped away from his technicians, who were sat in a enclosed cubby hole to one side of the Command Centre, and addressed the General. "Sir, we've just picked up a powerful signal emanating from the centre of Wakazi. It's Jaffa battle encoding and we're blocking a lot of the signal but they must have some heavy duty emitters going 'cause there's some leakage anyway, at least on a local scale."

"It's not going interstellar then?" Tyler demanded.

The EWO shook his head. "If it had been tightbeamed then yes but this was wide-cast, it'll be lucky to get picked up beyond atmosphere, but there was just too much power for us to jam completely. Everybody on the planet will have heard it."

"It was broadcast in the clear?" Roberts asked curiously.

"A wideband signal." The EWO acknowledged. "But heavily encrypted. We have the signal but we've not had much luck in decoding Jaffa battle encrypt. Neither has the rest of the Alliance as far as I know."

"Probably an all units signal for a general retreat…" Tyler concluded cautiously.

The General grunted in acknowledgement and turned back to watch the drama unfold. It was playing out spookily similar to how the Jaffa took Wakazi in the first place. As the secondary divisions closed in from the south, the Jaffa mobile assets regrouped to the north under continuous fire and began to withdraw from the base. Numerous dug in Jaffa elements remained across the entire base, just enough to prevent the Army from immediately pursuing the retreating Jaffa.

Large Jaffa transports and a handful of al'kesh bombers rose up and flew slowly north as their Scorpions and Bug transports stomped steadily in pursuit. A cloud of Death Gliders, at least four echelons, flew above them, ready to repulse any attempt at strafing the retreating column.

"They're heading for Kawa." Roberts murmured quietly.

Beside him, Tyler sighed heavily. "We're getting withdrawals across the board except for Kawa, Okisoto, Isi and Agawa. We hadn't pushed too hard in those cities cause there aren't all that many of our people there anymore and the Jaffa are very secure."

Both the Generals watched as ragtag streams of Jaffa, still in their hundreds of thousands with masses of equipment despite their losses, head towards the four heavily occupied and well defended cities.

They would take the better part of two days to get there, with the Gryphon Army and Air Corp continually harassing them but arrive they would, and those four cities would be a blister on the face of Gryphon that would not be easily removed.

"General Roberts?" A familiar voice called out somewhat hesitantly from behind him.

Roberts spun round with a surprised expression on his face. "You're Majesty." He greeted Queen Anne, who stood near the doorway of the Command Centre, unsure as to whether it was okay to disturb her commanders at such a time.

"I've been watching the signal feed in the throne room with my husband…" She announced, "…but I'm feeling a little overwhelmed by all the raw data and would like to hear a brief status report from you if that would be possible."

Roberts glanced at Tyler, who himself was surpressing a grin, and turned back to the queen with a solemn but proud expression on his face. "Your Highness, I beg to report that as of ten minutes ago we have secured the Stargate and regained control of the planet."

For a second or two, her expression remained blank but as his words finally penetrate her conciousness, she bowed her head and gripped herself tightly. Oh, she had dreamed of this day for over a year! After a minute of blissful awareness, she looked up at Roberts, he eyes bright with unshed tears. "Thank you, General…my thanks to you all." She said, now addressing the entire command centre. "I don't have the words to express my gratitude and my respect for what you have all accomplished, I…"

She trailed off, literally unable to form the words past the unexpected lump in her throat.

Roberts smiled tightly. "Troops, ATTEN-TION!"

All around the command centre, the officers and technicians stood as one, and placed a closed fist across their heart in the way of a Gryphon salute.

The Queen looked across the sea of faces, some who where crying unashamedly with pride, and felt their love for her and their world multiply a thousand-fold. They had had held against the entire Union war machine for over a year, contesting every inch of dirt, every blade of grass, every house, every room. Never flinching, never running away.

With men and women such as these, anything was possible.

****

End of Part 2


	3. chapter 3

OKay, here's part 3. Its not the final part yet folks... I really wanted to publish the finished story in part three but I found that I had a LOT of story to tell and its gonna require a Part 4. Which WILL be done before CHRISTMAS!

I figured that with some of the emails I had been getting, some of you were chomping at the bit to get your fix of Spearhead :) So I cut out the fairly polished edited section I had completed to date. I think I have all the plot twists tied up but if you spot any holes, let me know.

Well here it is.

And before you get on with it, I just wanted to say thanks to everyone who's kept up with the series. Some of you have been with me since the beginning over two years ago, some of you may have just joined us but I appreciate you all. Even the ones with complaints! You know who you are! You guys kept me honest and though I can't please you all, I hope you all managed to find something worthy of you attention.

Couldn't have done this without all you guys and gals. And don't worry, this journey's coming to an end but as my old gran used to say, 'a rolling stone gathers no moss'.

Or was it, 'never walk under a ladder.'

'A splash of vinegar will clear the itching right up?'

Oh no, that was it. 'It's not the beginning of the end, it's merely the end of the beginning'

Later folks.

Andrew.

13th December, 2004

Chapter 6

Eye of the Hurricane

Outer Rim World

Primary Tok'ra Base

Rath stepped down from the Stargate and was greeted by Selmak and Ducane, a member of the High Council.

"What news?" Selmak asked promptly.

"The Alliance has retaken Gryphon. The Tau'ri have persuaded the rest to attack Sohag and they are preparing their combined fleet to strike." Rath replied grimly.

"And our offer?" Ducane asked intently.

Rath shook his head. "They refused. Politely, of course. They said that a handful of Tok'ra soldiers would make little contribution on the field of battle."

Selmak sighed and turned away. The other two Tok'ra could see he was torn. Ducane shook his head. "What are the Alliance's chances of success?"

Rath opened his mouth to reply but Selmak looked up sharply and grimaced. "They'll do it. I know O'Neill. Once he sets his mind to something, there's nothing this side of Asgard that could stop him. And those gray bastards have gone to him for help on more than one occasion, a little fact that should tell you all you need to know right there."

Rath nodded in wearied agreement. "It will take years but the Goa'uld, both Separatist and Unionist, are a corpse that doesn't know its dead yet."

Ducane raised an eyebrow at the colorful expression from Rath. He had spent so long among the Tau'ri that annoyed him so, he was starting to sound like them. The Councilman frowned. "What will this mean to us? What will an Alliance victory do to our plans?"

"Nothing good." Selmak replied. "Yet for the life of me I can't see a way of stopping them that won't plunge the Galaxy into another ten thousand years of darkness."

"We have to find a way!" Ducane countered. "If it is the Alliance and not the Tok'ra who succeed in destroying the Goa'uld, the Tok'ra who have fought the System Lords for millennia, how long do you think it will be before the general fear of what we are turns the Alliance against us!? Only the goodwill generated by our being the saviors of the Galaxy will prevent our eventual destruction!"

"It won't be that way…" Selmak began weakly.

The other two Tok'ra stared at him implacably and Selmak sighed in disgust. "So what's our alternative? Sabotage the Alliance so that we can pick up the pieces and lead the Galaxy to victory? Face it, the Tok'ra will never be trusted, not completely, not after what the Goa'uld have done to the Galaxy and destroying the Alliance, even hindering it, would turn us into the very villains that you fear the Galaxy already perceive us as. Is this what the Tok'ra has been reduced to? Public relations?!"

"What do you suggest?" Rath asked intently.

Selmak shrugged helplessly. "The only thing we can do. Join the Alliance. Completely. None of this allied power nonsense. Even the Adenan, Tollan and Susparti, notorious xenophobes and isolationists, have joined the Alliance unreservedly."

"The Alliance will not give us hosts! How can we join a political entity that prevents us from procuring the very thing we need to survive." Ducane responded hotly. "And with all the member races sharing medical research and technology, we cannot even attract the incurably ill because there are, full all intents and purposes, no more ill people in the Allliance!"

"We'll find a way." Selmak replied tightly. "The immediate goal is to change the perception of our race by the rest of the Galaxy for by the end of war with the Goa'uld, if we are still perceived as 'parasites' by the majority of the Alliance…that's it."

He looked off into the distance, unable to see past a future that he hoped would never come to pass. "We'll be next."

23:04 ZULU

August 14th 2010

Bast's Fortress Palace, Sohag

Hek'at stalked the corridors of the Palace in a foul mood. Upon arriving from Gryphon, Hek'at had learned of Bast's order to pull pretty much the entire Core World defensive fleet to Sohag, in preparation of a counter-attack upon the Alliance fleet at Gryphon.

He knew the reasoning behind the strike and from a certain point of view, it also made a lot of sense, but he knew that it was also just as certainly a mistake. Nearly six years of constant warfare against the Separatists and against the Alliance had steadily reduced the number of ships in the Union Fleet from over three thousand, to less than fifteen hundred. The Separatists were in no better shape, whereas the Alliance just seemed to continue growing at a staggering rate.

For thousands of years, the System Lords had rarely engaged in full scale warfare, preferring to hit their enemies where they were weak, hardly ever head on and in force. Since the Alliance had come onto the scene, the System Lords, be they Union or Separatist, had been forced to fight for the lives against each other and against the Tau'ri who seemed to take on all-comers and prevail.

And why not, he brooded darkly, it wasn't as if the System Lords hadn't gone out of their way to make friends with any of the space-going civilizations it had been unable to conquer. It had hurt when the Sintesians had joined the Alliance, especially since they still hadn't managed to learn where the bear's homeworld was. Their membership had given the fledgling Alliance a massive boost that had put them on the path to greater things.

The Tollan. Damn them to hell. A thousand years of isolation and Apophis, with his toady, Zipakna have to go and piss them off by bombarding their homeworld. That attack had obviously been enough to rouse them from their self-imposed isolation just so they could sink their knife in to the Union's belly. And let's not even mention the Susparti.

The thrice-damned lizards had held off every attack the System Lords had sent their way for over three hundred years. Though their rate of technological progress was slow compared to the Tau'ri, it equaled that of the Goa'uld and thus, they were more than equal to the task of opposing any advance a System Lord cared to undertake. Now that they had joined the Alliance, their centuries long experience was no doubt improving Alliance technology and methodologies by leaps and bounds!

Why!? Hek'at cursed, what was it about the Tau'ri that drew completely disparate cultures that had remained purposefully isolated throughout their existence into their Alliance like a long lost member of the family. They were like some strange galactic adhesive that rolled through space, picking up the lint of civilizations that would otherwise prefer to remain alone. They united peoples that were at war. The brought trust where there had only been intrigue and deception.

It was like the Galaxy had given rise to anti-bodies that were anti-ethical to everything the Goa'uld believed in and were devoted to removing every last vestige of the System Lords like they would remove a cancer from its host.

Hek'at shook his head. He knew he was getting tired when he begun to wax philosophical, especially about his enemies. Coming to a junction in the corridors of the Palace, he turned towards Bast's quarters, where he knew she would be at this time of night.

The Palace was quiet, and he only crossed paths with a few Jaffa with whom he shared a few words. He tried to keep his finger on the pulse of the Legions, all the better to know of the state of the union. The Jaffa were everywhere but also ignored by the Goa'uld. This allowed them to hear everything while acknowledging nothing. Information was quietly shared amongst the hierarchy of the Jaffa, always in the service of their Gods, but increasingly of late, as a means to consider their own destiny.

While a general Jaffa rebellion was by no means on the cards, the Jaffa of the Goa'uld Union had been treated far more respectfully by Bast than by any Seperatist System Lord and as a result, they were far more effective warriors. But a little independence was a dangerous thing, Hek'at was beginning to realize, and while the where still utterly loyal to their Gods, they had become far less fearful, you could say even less religious and it was doubt the Jaffa of the Union would ever acknowledge the orders of a God of the old school.

Regardless of their burgeoning independence, they continued to listen to all the 'courtly' intrigue and a name that kept popping up was Kiptakanae. Apparently, he was on his way back from a week long jaunt round the Union. He appeared to be garnering support amongst the Union leaders, for what, the Jaffa were unable to say, but Hek'at had a sneaking suspicion he was going to try and wrest control of the Union away from Bast.

The last thing they needed right now was a political power struggle, especially when Bast appeared ready to send the entire Core Fleet on a fool's errand.

Deep in thought, he finally arrived at Bast's door. The two Praetorian guards, in full armour and activated helmets that were modeled after a fearsome feline creature on one of Bast's original worlds, stood to attention but continued to block the doorway.

Hek'at didn't smile but nodded respectfully, vaguely pleased by their caution. "I wish to see our Queen."

Before either of the guards could reply, Bast's sweet soprano rang out in the corridor. "Let him through."

The guards, receiving a coded confirmation of the order through their helmet displays, instantly stepped aside and the doors opened obediently.

Hek'at strode inside to be met by the breathtaking sight of Bast stood at the window balcony, wearing a near transparent gown, silhouetted against the moons of Sohag.

She turned to face him, a grim expression that didn't make her delicate features any less beautiful. "I assume from the thunderous set of your brow that you have heard of my order to gather the Core World Fleet to Sohag and attack the Alliance at Gryphon."

"You mock me, my Queen!" Hek'at replied darkly. "This attack will achieve very little, even assuming we are victorious in destroying their fleet. We lack the ships to follow up on whatever gains we make. Even you dare not leave the Core Worlds undefended for long."

"The we will fight for limited gains!" Bast roared angrily. She did not like being questioned by her First Prime in this manner. The kindness she had shown him had given him too much freedom of thought and action. _But what if he's right? Just because I disagree with him doesn't make him any less correct in his evaluation._

She visibly reined in her anger and glared at Hek'at. "This attack is not open for debate but if you desire, you may take command of the attack and once you have 'punished' the Alliance fleet to your satisfaction, you may redeploy the Motherships to their original defensive missions. Make no mistake, Hek'at, this attack is a military and political necessity. Kiptakanae is making very wide inroads with some of the more persuadable Union System Lords and I require a victory to offset the loss of Gryphon, no matter how expected that loss had been."

Surrendering to the political logic of the situation, Hek'at bowed in agreement, however reluctantly.

Please with his acquiescence, Bast bestowed a kind smile upon her one-time lover. "I know this has been hard on us, Hek'at, but I get the feeling things are going to get better for us all round." She stepped gracefully over to her chair and sat down, gesturing for Hek'at to sit opposite her.

"Now tell me, First Prime, what happened to turn the tide of war against us on Gryphon. They had superior numbers as usual but our ships are individually stronger. Did the tash'khat missiles perform as designed? What happened, Hek'at?"

Hek'at sat down heavily and wondered where to begin. "First off, my Queen, though you are right that our individual ships are still technologically superior, that gap has steadily declined, especially as the Alliance begins to unravel more and more the mysteries of Asgard technology, something we have been unable to do."

Bast nodded at the comment, her face expressionless despite the great annoyance she felt at the situation. They had no examples of Asgard technology with which to work with, only a few melted components salvaged from Alliance wreckage that were less than useful.

Hek'at continued his report remorselessly. "They utilized a new small craft, a sensor stealthed vessel that also had incredible jamming abilities. Our fire control systems were heavily confused at medium to long ranges and communications were reduced to garbage. One of my Seconds noted certain similarities in their emissions and that of our own sensor/jamming network."

Again, Bast grunted in acknowledgement. "I've known they were working on a countervailing system but my spies had no idea it would be ready so soon or be so effective."

"Apparently, some of the jamming techniques were very similar to that which the Gryphon military used, only several magnitudes more powerful." Hek'at noted ruefully.

"But how…?" Bast began and then realization burst in her mind. "The breakout. Instead of getting the leaders out of the system, they settled for sending a data package containing tactics and techniques that had proven effective against us."

Hek'at nodded. "That was my summation. Regardless, it allowed them to reduce our sensor effectiveness by half and limit our jamming to short ranges only. They then jumped into the system and engaged our fleet. I would estimate that most of the First and Third Fleets made the jump. Everything went as you would expect until the fighters engaged our Death Gliders." His eyes glinted devilishly. "The tash'khat missiles slaughtered them."

"We moved to press home the attack while they were in obvious shock but to my unpleasant surprise, the Alliance Second Fleet dropped out of hyperspace and engaged us, giving the other two fleets time to regroup and outflank us. Their fighter losses were extremely heavy and we inflicted fairly heavy damage to their Second Fleet but their shielding had improved in strength somewhat and combined with the problems our fire control was having, the fleet was soon on the defensive. Our losses were light but that was only because I ceded the system to them. Had I stayed and fought, our losses would have been horrific. Losses that we simply can't afford."

"An unfortunate truth." Bast replied sourly. "What about on the ground?"

The First Prime grimaced and shifted uneasily in his chair. "I wasn't there, of course, but Tal'mac is managing to get the occasional burst transmission through the Alliance jamming to a group of fast cloaked scouts I stationed in the asteroid belt. His signals have informed me as to what transpired after our withdrawal. Again, the Alliance sprung another surprise upon us. The Tau'ri opened the chappa'ai and we closed the Iris device. Unfortunately, the cursed Tau'ri simply walked through the barrier as if it wasn't even there!"

"Oh my, the Tollan actually shared some of their tech!?" Bast exclaimed in pleasant surprise.

Hek'at glared at Bast as her shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. "I'm glad you're amused, Bast."

Oh, I'm sorry, Hek'at…" She replied contritely. She knew how many Jaffa had died and were still dying as they spoke. "…it's just that I never expected the Tollan to part with their technology. I know they joined the Alliance but I expected it to be an 'interested neutral' sort of contribution."

"If only…" The big Jaffa sighed. "Anyway, they apparently managed to get about half a legion, close to five hundred troops onto the base before the chappa'ai shut down to recharge. Tal'mac attacked twice but the entire assault force was one of their elite armour units of theirs. They smashed his force aside and took level after level. He was forced to pull several Legions off the perimeter to try and stop them from taking the base from the inside and he thought that he had been successful after they stopped but it turned out that entire waves of assault shuttles were waiting in orbit to attack. They swooped down brought their damn shuttles right on top of his lines. The entire outer perimeter collapsed. In places, they were essentially annihilated where they stood. Before they realized it, they were fighting for their lives. After that…"

He sighed heavily. "We were forced to retreat. We've lost the Chappa'ai and with it, the Gryphon system. We simply cannot risk the losses we would be faced with in re-taking the system once more!"

Bast's expression hardened. "Hek'at…" She said warningly.

Raising his hands in defeat, the big First Prime sighed. "I know, the attack needs to proceed regardless."

Looking at his dispirited features, Bast took pity on her First Prime and stepped out from behind her desk and moved over to him. She placed one of her small, delicate hands on top of his massive, rough paw-like fists and smiled. "As it happens, I've been expecting the use of Tollan phasing techniques amongst the Alliance military at some point and have long been working on a potential counter to the technology. My only error was in assuming that it would take several years for the Tollan to overcome their reticence. Regardless, this new ability has allowed them to take Gryphon from us but with a little luck, the phase devices will be essentially useless from now on."

Hek'at expression, which had started out as confused now became openly skeptical.

Bast laughed gently and, without speaking, led Hek'at out of her quarters and down to her primary lab.

Their arrival was met by several of her top engineers who were working hard with several arcane pieces of equipment.

"Show our First Prime what we have been working on to surprise the Tollan with." She ordered her engineers with the air of someone with a grand display that was about to be put on.

The Goa'uld engineers bustled quickly and efficiently and within minutes had several pieces of equipment setup in the primary testing area. Hek'at recognized a particularly battered and half melted piece of technology as a Tollan Phase Device.

Bast frowned slightly as she followed his gaze. "We managed to secure two examples of the phase device in that debacle with Tanneth and Zipakna. We took one apart to see how it works. We've managed to recreate the device to a certain extent but it lacks the power and efficiency of the Tollan device. Thus we cannot phase anything bigger than your fist. We have however, learned a great deal about the physics involved and we put together a Phase-Inhibitor…"

She gestured to the engineers who quickly and efficiently performed a test of their new equipment. The lead engineer attached the Goa'uld phase device to a small test unit, a simple spherical recording unit. After setting a couple of switches, the engineer stood in front of a small rectangular frame that the others had hastily assembled on a nearby bench. The engineer gently lobbed the device towards the center of the frame. As the test unit left his hand, it rippled and faded slightly as the phase device activated. A mere instant later, the unit passed through the center of the frame. An arc of energy crackled between the sphere and the framework and the test unit fell to the floor, completely un-phased and sparking with severe internal damage.

Hek'at watched the demonstration and the nightmares of Alliance Ground Force troopers swarming through the Chappa'ai defenses throughout the Union faded away and he suddenly felt much better about the future course of the war.

18:27 ZULU

August 15th 2010

Chamber of Light, Sintesia

"Well that's it then. Gryphon's free once more." M'Thul stated proudly.

The Susparti Councilor hissed in agreement. "The operation was a success but our fighter losses were most severe. Several hundred small craft for a planet is a fair exchange, but not one I would be comfortable making very often."

Kutsov looked at the Susparti with a grim expression on her face. "Agreed. The initial count puts our losses among the Fighter Corp at nearly five hundred. That's more than we have lost during entire years of conflict. Not to mention that those killed were amongst our most experienced pilots."

"Just when we think we have Bast on the defensive, she pulls another technological trick out of her bag." M'Thul replied sourly. "Had she been any other Goa'uld, we have been rid of her long ago."

"Assassination squads, fleet deep strikes, you name it, we've tried it." Kutsov added for Zuuth Maal's benefit. "She's always been one step ahead of us when she leaves the protective sphere of Sohag."

"What of Admiraal Pattersssson?" Zuuth Maal inquired solicitously.

Kutsov sighed heavily. "He is still critical, I'm afraid. The report I received stated that even if he survives, the damage to his body would be hard to repair completely, even with the best technology the Alliance has to offer. I doubt he will ever be able to resume his rather active position as of Admiral of the Fleet."

"A great shame, indeed." M'Thul replied soberly. "He still remains one of our best strategists, I would hope he doesn't choose to retire completely."

The Councilor for Earth nodded in agreement. "I am sure we can find a position at Command that does not require much of him physically. We have done same for General Stuart already."

She gave another sigh. "This war's diffferent, we've never really consider having to retire soldiers due to old age before. It doesn't look like its going to end anytime soon either."

Zuuth Maal waved her hand casually. "We have beeen fighting for three hundrrred of yourrr years…I would not be overly surprised if it took ussss another three hundrrrred."

Kutsov grinned wryly. "Oh, I do not think it will take that long. We Terrans can be very impatient when comes to getting what we want, and if we want Galaxy free of the Goa'uld, then the snakes had better watch out!"

The Susparti ambassador studied the human leader intently. "So we arrree coming to understand…"

22:05 ZULU

August 15th 2010

Auditorium, Wakazi Base

Supreme Allied Commander, General Jack O'Neill, stepped into the Auditorium, flanked by Admiral Kent, now Admiral of the Fleet, and General Tadeshi Roberts, who had just been named the new Marshal of Ground Force. The previous Ground Force Marshal, General Stuart, had decided to retire for he was now quite old and had only carried on soldiering for so long through sheer force of will. This new offensive would herald the start of a new campaign that would require a new, younger commander, more able to lead at the front, as a good commander should. After his efforts at halting the advance of the mighty Jaffa military machine across his planet, no doubted his ability to lead the ground troops of the Alliance in battle.

The three men took center stage in the massive hall and looked out amongst the sea of faces, officers and NCO's from all the units involved in the upcoming attack. The roster of those present was full of names that were almost legends amongst the civilian population of the Alliance, names that filled the heart of Jaffa with dread. The SG squads, Spearhead Assault Teams, 73rd Sintesian Corp, the Spartans, 111th Heavy Infantry, the Entrican Marines, the Susparti Feydakin, the SGC Rapid Reaction Force, 1st Armoured Regiment, the Special Boat Squads of the Polarian Navy…the elite of the Alliance. In the front row, Brigadier General Carter sat contemplatively alongside the ever-looming form of Teal'c.

Every face, human and alien, male, female or other watched O'Neill intently as he stepped up to the podium and nodded to his ever-present aide, Colonel Katherine Krupskaya, who activated the holographic display behind him.

A massive image of the Sohag system appeared, to scale, but with multiple windows that enlarged certain planets, asteroids and lines of defenses.

"Sohag." O'Neill announced. "Center of the Goa'uld Union and home to Bast and her Legions. The most heavily defended world in the Galaxy known to us and your next target."

A murmur rose up at the General's bluntness but was just as quickly silenced.

O'Neill smiled. "Though the liberation didn't go quite according to plan, it has been an unqualified success. A tremendous victory and no one could blame us for stopping here and making good our gains…but we won't. If its one thing I've learned in all my years of hopping across the Galaxy is that you don't stop fighting just when things are going your way. If we give Bast a chance to regroup, we'll be adding ten years to this war with the Union and that doesn't even count the mopping up of the Separatists.

"The plan is simple. Grand Fleet will advance on Sohag and split into three battlegroups, essentially along the lines of First, Second and Third Fleets. As is becoming operational tactics for Navy-level tactics, Second Fleet will hold position outside the Sohag system and await our call. First and Third will hammer their way to Sohag…"

As O'Neill spoke, the tactical display behind him changed to show the two icons of First and Third fleets carving their way in system. There were multiple plans for how they would attack, would the Motherships attack piecemeal or would they regroup and attack en mass? Would they close the range or engage with long-range fire? These were items to be discussed at an operational level whereas O'Neill was briefing everyone in general terms so that the entire invasion force had a good idea of everyone's role in the plan.

"…and once engaged, Second Fleet will jump past them Goa'uld forces and into the inner system around Sohag. It is there that the SG-Alpha and Spartan elements will deploy from orbit." When he said this, there were a few wry chuckles from those who knew _exactly_ what that meant. "There are three more SG-Teams waiting on Spearhead to repeat what the Spartans did to the Jaffa defending the Stargate here on Gryphon. The double strike will hopefully cause enough confusion amongst the Jaffa for both points of attack to succeed."

"Once the troops are away, Second Fleet will turnaround and engage the Goa'uld fleet in their rear." O'Neill finished. He stepped away from the podium and seemed to relax slightly, speaking to the arrayed soldiers more casually. "Look folks, I've glossed over a lot of the detail there. This isn't going to be a walk in the park. Odds are that the person to your right isn't gong to come home…but this isn't anything new to us. I've been risking my scrawny neck all the way back to the Gulf, long before I'd even heard of the Stargate and I can tell you that nothings really changed. The weapons are more powerful, we're a lot further from home and the price of failure is a lot higher but we're still doing it for the same reasons. For the freedom to choose."

"Just as your ancestors fought from freedom on the beaches of Normandy, or in the forests of Bth'ul…" He added, gesturing towards the nearest Sintesian soldier. "…and other battlefields across time immemorial, we go now to defend those unable to defend themselves. I don't think anything more needs to be said."

O'Neill took a step back and stood ramrod straight to attention, his right hand raised to his brow in salute.

The entire assembly came to its feet simultaneously and returned his salute. A moment of shared emotion flared throughout the auditorium and almost shaking with the fierceness of it all, O'Neill dropped his salute, nodded to them all and strode out the hall.

Admiral Kent stepped up to podium after O'Neill walked out and sighed deeply. "Be seated everyone, we have a lot of things to go over and not much time to do it."

There was a thunderous shuffle as the thousands of troopers sat back down, followed by a sequence of beeps and chirps as General Roberts accessed the podium console and brought up the first ops plan on the massive holographic display behind him.

"As you can see, the lead elements will have to penetrate…"

Three hours later…

To say that the massive assembly area around the reconstruction of Wakazi Base was hectic would be understating the situation by several magnitudes. Hundreds of Fleet Assault Wing dropships were lined up along the edges of the base, loading up with supplies and equipment, readying themselves for the coming assault of Sohag. Thousands upon thousands of troopers from a dozen different worlds were camped out, similarly preparing for the assault. The officers and senior NCO's moved quietly amongst the men and women of the Ground Forces, passing out words of encouragement, sharing a joke or helping with a problem, doing that which soldiers have done for time immemorial, in the hours before battle.

The majority of these troopers were Ground Force regulars that would drop in the second wave but in the northern quadrant of the base, the 'Strike Group' troops were being kitted out with new equipment, the new MkIV Combat armour and new weapons and spending precious time getting familiar with it so that they didn't kill themselves in the assault and save the planet full of Jaffa the trouble.

"This sucks ass!" Private First Class Matt Brodie whined loudly as he picked up his newly issued weapon from the table the unit armourer had setup. "Why can't I keep the M-205?"

First Lieutenant Jon Harper, CO of Charlie Company, 52nd Assault Regiment, otherwise known as the Spartans, sighed heavily as he checked his combat armour's diagnostics once more. His suit's systems were having problems interfacing with their new, XM-80 'Widowmaker' rifle. He spared the PFC a long-suffering look. "You can't get close and personal with a rail gun, troop, now quit complaining and get your ass to the range!" He turned to another of his men who was walking towards the nearby, impromptu firing range. "Porter, get over here, my damn 'puter's acting up again!"

Sgt Chris Porter smiled behind his helmet visor and walked over to his commander with barely feigned exasperation. "You gotta baby it, sir…if you keep insulting the suit, it'll keep messing you around."

Harper glared at the other man, even though he couldn't see through the visor. "It's a machine and I'll be damned before I sweet talk a computer!"

Porter gestured his acquiescence, grinning all the time and began to work swiftly on his commanders suit computer through his own enhanced suit systems. "You know, LT, me and the other line techs are beginning to suspect that the suits are becoming…personable."

"Bullshit." Harper retorted. "A suit's programming doesn't include any artificial intelligence. You're just anthropomorphizing."

Porter shook his head. "There might not be any formal AI governing the suit's but the onboard routines are pretty damn complex, far more than they really needed to be. It's easily possible that after enough time and experience, any complex system might develop…individuality."

Harper studied the platoon tech carefully. "You're serious." He stated.

Porter hesitated and then nodded. "Your suit goes all temperamental now and again, usually when you start shouting at it. Has it ever crapped out on you during a battle?"

"No, but…" Harper paused and considered the implications as Porter finished persuading Harper's suit to open a datalink with his weapon.

"Done, LT." He announced.

Harper grunted in acknowledgement and pressed a couple of controls on his forearm interface. The armour suddenly hissed as the helmet deployed in stages around his head. A collar slid up from the neck, metal plates fanned upwards the back of his head and across the top. As the plates went up, slightly thinner plates slid outwards, horizontally across his face. At eye level, a blue-tinted, transparent screen slid across and connected with the upper section of the helmet that dropped over his forehead.

The Heads-Up-Display came to life, trooper designations, digital compass, satellite map…a wealth of information flowed over him with the ease of familiarity. He brought his XM-80 up and a crosshair appeared that correlated with the aim point of his weapon.

He grinned behind his helmet mask. "Sweet."

The two men stepped over to the range and joined the rest of Charlie Company who were firing at holographic targets fifty meters downrange. Harper smiled wryly as he saw PFC Brodie steadily firing timed shots at numerous agile targets in his alley. Despite his griping about the new weapon, it didn't prevent him from blowing away a different target with each shot.

Harper was about to claim an alley for himself when he saw Lt Col Lyman and Colonel Bannon and another two unfamiliar men in the new MkIV combat armour, making their way towards him. He passed his weapon to Sgt Porter, de-activated his helmet and stepped over to meet his superiors.

"Sir. Ma'am." He greeted them after his helmet had finally retracted, saluting as he did so.

They return his salute casually and Lyman glanced at the men and women on the firing range. "How's are things going?"

"Right on the edge, sir." Harper replied firmly, eyes flickering towards the strangers. They didn't look like guards and their helmets, like his, were retracted. Both looked liked veterans, though.

Lyman caught the glance and smiled. "This is Colonel Kerr Avon and Major Jonas Quinn, of SG-Omega."

Harper instantly recognized the names and offered his hand with sincere respect. "We've heard what you did here on Gryphon, sirs. Its an honor."

Both men shook his hand and nodded in reply but said nothing and Colonel Bannon took up the conversation. "Lieutenant, SG-Omega took a lot of casualties and are officially combat-ineffective."

The taut expressions on the faces of the two men from SG-Omega didn't go unnoticed by the others but Bannon carried on. "Command wants to send them all back to Spearhead but Colonel Avon has convinced me to let him and the survivors join our Strike Group as a slightly oversized platoon."

Harper nodded in understanding and Lt Col Lyman began once more. "Lieutenant, Alpha Company took too many casualties during the Stargate assault here on Wakazi so it's become the Regiment reserve. Charlie Company is the best unit after Alpha so I'll be joining you and we'll be taking point. Meanwhile, I want you help train what we're gonna call Omega Company on the new mark Combat Armour. They'll work with us while Beta and Delta Companies pair off. Understood?"

Harper nodded firmly. "Yes, sir."

"Good." Bannon replied. "We'll leave you gentlemen to it." And with that, she and Lyman walked off towards the base facilities.

Harper turned to the Colonel and the Major and smiled wryly. "I guess that other than the improved computer and armour durability, the only thing we need to work on is the 'jump pack'."

The other men's eyes seem to come alive.

With the introduction of anti-gravity devices such as those built into the fighters, bombers and transports of the Alliance fleet, it was a junior engineer at the Scientific Support Division who wondered why you couldn't strap one to your back and essentially fly like Superman. Keen to prove his theory, that young, eager engineer jury rigged a low-power anti-grav unit to a harness and tried it out. After spending nearly two months in hospital, recovering from a large number of broken bones, the engineer had realized far too late that there was almost no way to accurately control direction or speed. The fighters and bombers, after all, had reaction control thrusters to help maneuver their craft when balancing on their AG units.

That same, wiser, engineer had plenty of time to redesign the anti-grav unit so that it would project downward force, no matter its orientation. The only thing it's wearer had to control was the intensity of its projecting, allowing them to control their effective altitude.

"I've read the specs, Lieutenant…" Major Quinn began animatedly. "…and I can't understand why I never thought of it when I designed the MkIV."

Harper shrugged. "Shit happens, sir. The chameleon cloak was good enough for us but I have to admit, you're gonna love the new gear. I just hope you have a head for heights." Smiling, he tapped a control on his armour that activated his communication gear. "Master Sgt D'evilenger, we have new orders. I need you to arrange for a two company training drop in the next hour. The Fleet ships out in ten hours so we don't have much time to get this done."

"Acknowledged. Out." The Master Sergeant replied, his voice giving no hint of the near impossible task he had just been given. Harper wasn't worried, he knew the Master Sergeant would get it arranged.

"Shall we get to your people, sir?" Harper suggested. "A good half hour of instruction on the controls and then we pair up one of your people with one of mine and go jump."

Colonel Avon's smile was beatific. "Sounds funs."

05:42 ZULU

August 16th 2010

Spearhead

Master Sergeant Booth surveyed the troopers of SG-Beta, SG-Delta and SG-Gamma milling around the staging area and shook his head. The Stargate had been maneuvered on its rails outside the Gate Facility so as to provide easy access for all three Assault Teams and the troops of the assault teams, veterans all, were now experimenting with their newly issued combat armour. The armour was the MkIII version with the chameleon skin and phase units that only just becoming available in large enough quantities for the line troops to replace the MkII. The MkIV with its jump pack was still fresh of the drawing boards and only a few hundred had yet been produced.

The view of hundreds of waiting troopers was nothing new for Booth, it was simply the fact that every few seconds a trooper would fade from view as they experimented with their chameleon cloaks that wasn't available on the MkII. This made for an eye-searing effect, almost like an intense heat distortion that would ripple across the group and back again. One trooper would appear only for another to fade. Booth turned away from the sight, bringing two fingers up to massage his temple.

"Christ, that's giving me a headache, Teal'c." The grizzled seargeant moaned.

Teal'c smiled wryly. "Maybe you should think about the headache they will provide for Bast's Jaffa. The Wraith units proved most effective in retaking Gryphon, they should be equally effective in taking the Fortress Palace on Sohag."

Booth grunted in agreement and suddenly came to a semblance of attention as a small electric buggy swiftly approached them bearing Brigadier General Carter. Teal'c noticed the man's shift and turned just as the electric buggy pulled up in front of them.

"Teal'c, Booth, how are things going?" Carter asked promptly.

"See for yourself, ma'am." The NCO replied and waved his hand across the still fading in and out troopers.

"Holy cow! There's something you don't see every day…" Carter replied with a grimace. She stared at the sight for several more seconds, seemingly hypnotized by the view before she shook her head and turned to the two men. "I'm heading back to Gryphon to rejoin the Fleet before they head off to Sohag. Would you two care to join me?"

Teal'c inclined his head. "I would be honored."

The Master Sergeant shook his head in distaste. "Oh no. All respect to the navy pukes but I ain't cut out for fleet duty." He shuddered dramatically. "Was on a Fleet destroyer a while back. The food's lousy, the quarters are cramped and the air's recycled. I prefer it down in the mud so I think I'll just stay here and make the transit to Sohag through the Stargate. But you kids go have fun!" He ended with semi-false cheeriness.

Carter smiled wryly at the old master sergeant's response. "Suit yourself, Master Sergeant. We'll see you on Sohag."

Command Central, Fortress Palace, Sohag

Hek'at sat in Command Central, studying the strategic hologram with increasing dissatisfaction. Bast had departed through the Chappa'ai on a diplomatic mission to the Seperatist System Lord Ran'toul, a major player amongst the Goa'uld who was apparently considering joining the Union. Bringing in a new partner and their extra ships before the strike on Gryphon and the near full strength of the Alliance Fleet would be a boost to the morale and fleet strength of monumental proportions.

Since Bast first returned to mainstream civilization over a decade ago, and forged the Union out of the squabbling System Lords, her territory had steadily expanded in all directions but one, towards the Alliance. The Separatist System Lords that were actively hostile to the Union, though individually powerful, were each eventually wore down under Bast's continual attacks. Those Separatists that took a live and let live attitude, Bast left alone. Only Lord Yu posed a major threat to her Union, for his territory was vast and even Ra and Apophis spent much time and effort defending against his predations.

It was ironic that though Yu claimed to be a Separatist, his own forces rarely did any fighting themselves, much preferring to intimidate nearby System Lords into fighting for them, creating his own 'Union of Terror'.

Hek'at shook his head at the machinations of the Goa'uld. They could be so tiresome at times. Nevertheless, his eyes flittered back to the hologram. Space was simply so big that the very concept of 'borders' was somewhat loose. The Chappa'ai network, by its very nature, exacerbated the situation by placing colonized worlds haphazardly around the Galaxy. Most starfaring races preferred, most logically, to colonize worlds that were physically close to each other, increasing their mutual protection considerably.

The Alliance now contained a considerable amount of territory, mainly due to the widely spread worlds that had joined the Alliance. There were, of course, several worlds in the Alliance that were far from friendly 'territory', most notable of which was the Sintesian colony that was on the far side of the Galaxy. Another world of note was Gryphon.

Oh, how that name burned in his mind. The discovery of that world, around 3,000 light years from Sohag, had been viewed with eminent satisfaction. A world with a population of billions, right on their doorstep, had practically begged for enslavement. Unfortunately, the Alliance got there first and the subsequent defeats of the Union at Gryphon had finally given the Alliance a priceless gift, a secure staging post less than three days travel from Sohag.

A situation that had given his war planners fits.

Earth was over 20,000 light years from Sohag and, even with Union hyperdrive efficiencies, that was well over two weeks travel.

A not interminable journey, as his earlier deep strike on Earth had proven but far from ideal. No, if they were to ever make progress against the Alliance, the first step on that journey would be to retake Gryphon. He glanced at a breakdown of the ships arrayed for the attack. It was an impressive list, showing hundreds of Motherships, of all classes and variants, and thousands of udajeets and tel'tacs carrying the new tash'khat missiles.

It was a sign of the damage O'Neill and the Alliance had inflicted upon him when all he could do was sit here and hope it was enough.

**Susparti Strike Carrier _Death Nest_**

First Lieutenant Harper stepped off the ramp of his Orca dropship and sniffed the air onboard the Susparti carrier cautiously.

"Shit. Who the hell farted!" PFC Brodie cursed behind him.

"Only Mickey could produce a smell that bad!" Corporal David Goins replied as he chucked a Ground Force issue camel-pak in the direction of his brother.

Corporal Mickey Goins gave a long-suffering sigh as he caught the improvised projectile with ease. "If any of you idiots had bother to read up on the Susparti, you'd know the air mixture they breathe has a small but noticeable sulphur content." He replied quietly. "Nothing harmful to humans really, but enough to make the air smell bad to virgin lungs like ours. Give it a few hours and you won't notice it anymore."

"Crap, after twenty odd years of living with you, Mickey, I'm already used to it!" David replied, causing everyone, even Mickey to laugh.

Master Sergeant Jason D'evilenger stepped off the Orca and glared at Mickey. "Quit your yapping, Goins, and get your ass in gear. Go find out where we're being bunked on this overgrown cheesegrater."

The Corporal growled his disgust at his assignment as he walked off to find the Deck Officer.

"Want to see new sights? Smell new smells? Join the Ground Force today!" PFC Shane Meguel announced with a grimace as he stepped off the Orca and took his first breath of canned Susparti air.

"Just another day in the Corp…" Sgt Porter replied as he joined them, his nose twitching at the sudden assault upon his senses.

The rest of the Spartans were stepping off the other Orcas arrayed the length of the Strike Carriers main hanger. Numerous Susparti deck crew were watching the arriving humans with wariness. This was the first time for many of the Susparti of meeting an alien race. There had been some concern amongst the upper ranks about exposing the troops to such a potentially troublesome situation but Admiral Kent had overruled such concerns simply because they had nothing in the Alliance inventory to match the Susparti _Strike_-class Carriers. The Alliance _Ark Royal_-class carriers were excellent at what they did, carrying fighters to a combat zone but when it came to fighting, the massive vessels were simply too weak to stand up to any damage, as the three suicide Death Gliders had proven over Gryphon when they crippled the _Daniel Jackson_. The _Strike_ Carriers, however, were fairly well armed but extremely well shielded and armoured; better than most of the Alliance battleships in fact.

Everyone in the main hanger looked up as a soft tone filled the air and attracted everyone's attention and a familiar human female's voice announced,

Command briefing in the deck 11 auditorium in thirty minutes. Repeat, command briefing in the deck 11 auditorium in thirty minutes.

Harper thought that Colonel Bannon sounded mildly pissed and smiled wryly. _We've got three days on this tub and the Old Lady's already calling a briefing. Shit, she's gonna be ready to chew through trinium by the time we get to Sohag!_

"Master Sergeant, get these people to their bunks first then get some chow." He ordered tiredly. "I've got a meeting to go to."

07:10 ZULU

August 16th 2010

Royal Chambers

Queen Anne looked up from the datapad she had been reading as the main doors opened up and three familiar faces walked through. King Yamato turned away from a conversation with one of his aides and made a sound of pleasant surprise as he recognized Supreme Allied Commander O'Neill, General Carter and Teal'c come to a stop before the Royal thrones.

Disregarding protocol, Queen Anne stood up and swiftly moved down towards her visitors. "My friends, I'm glad you could make it one last time before the Fleet departs."

O'Neill smiled wryly. "We're less busier than our fleet commanders, but not by that much. Nevertheless, we're here, your Highnesses."

"Yes." Anne replied pleasantly. "Yamato and I won't keep you long, we simply wanted to thank you one last time for everything you've done and ask you if there's anything else we can provide you with that you don't already have."

Carter shook her head in disbelief. "Your Majesty, Gryphon has done more than its share already. The entire Alliance is in awe of the resistance your people put up during the Occupation. Even the Rebel Jaffa have heard the name of Gryphon spoken with profound respect amongst the Jaffa that still serve the System Lords."

Teal'c nodded sagely. "You are indeed warriors of note. I know of few worlds that have survived a Goa'uld invasion as well as you have done."

The Queen's face saddened for a moment. "But the price was high."

"It always is, your Majesty." O'Neill replied quietly.

They were silent for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts, until King Yamato exhaled with the air of a man putting the past behind him. "Well, we won't keep you much longer, I imagine you still have a few things to sort out before the trip."

"Just a few things…" O'Neill replied with feeling but he smiled as he said it. "Its only a short hop to Sohag from Gryphon, less than three days, despite having to avoid their perimeter patrols. With any luck, the earlier attacks will have drawn off most of her reserve forces to bolster the defenses that we hit pretty hard."

Yamato frowned slightly. "I've seen some of the early recon reports that say not as many Motherships have turned up at those places as Intelligence had hoped."

O'Neill looked at Carter who had been monitoring the Union response for him. He had obviously missed the report she had put in his mail queue and she shrugged. "Barely half the reinforcements we expected turned up after we had moved on. Intelligence is split in half. Some are hoping the other ships will drift in over the next couple of days, the rest believe Bast doesn't have the ships to send."

The Supreme Allied Commander snorted in mild amusement when he heard that. "The Fleet's good, Sam, but not that good. Bast has plenty of ships all right, the question is whether she's willing to take those ships from other obligations which, as Intelligence seems to have forgotten, was the whole point of the exercise. No, if those Motherships haven't turned up yet, then she still kept a hefty reserve defending the Core Worlds. When we get upstairs, pass word to Kent that once we attack Sohag, the possibility of Union reinforcements is high."

"Yes, sir." Carter replied firmly.

Queen Anne had listened to this quietly but now she felt she had to speak. "You still intend to attack, even though Bast may have more ships than you're prepared to fight?"

O'Neill smiled. "I'm not crazy, your Majesty. If sufficient Union reinforcements turn up, I'll order the retreat but we have an opportunity here that would be a shame to pass up."

"Then may light shine, in all the dark places you walk." The Queen replied gently, giving them the traditional Gryphon benediction bestowed upon soldiers going into battle.

"Thank you, your Majesty." O'Neill replied for all of them. And with that, they turned and departed the Royal Chambers.

It was almost time.

Sohag

Lord Kiptakanae sat in the dark in his chambers considering his plan. Yu had been goading him to assassinate Bast for years, stoking his anger so that he would do something rash so that Yu can come in and take over.

Kiptakanae smiled. His anger towards Bast had been real, the though of her consorting with a mere Jaffa disgusted him and, had Yu not urged him to attack Bast, he just might have done something foolishly rash. Yu's obvious self-interest, however, had been like a splash of cold water that had brought him to his senses. No, instead of a rash and unprepared assassination, he had waited, bided his time and built up his allies amongst the Union Council so that when he did move, he could instantly replace Bast and present a firm front of defiance against Yu's probably predation in such a time of chaos.

One part of his plan had been the rumors of a general Jaffa uprising. Such rumors were being carefully stoked by him. Oh, their grievances with Bast's treatment of them of late were real enough, and several senior Jaffa were making noises of dissatisfaction but a general uprising wasn't really on the cards. But it would, howver, make a convenient excuse when he killed everyone on the command center. He could tell the other Union members that the Jaffa tried to kill everyone but he and Bast fought back bravely, Bast only succumbing to a treacherous strike by her trusted First Prime.

Oh yes, that would play well with the other Unionists. They would fall behind him and he would lead the Union to victory over the cursed Tau'ri and their Alliance and the other Separatists would fall before him one by one.

A low chuckle of satisfaction filled the darkness.

10:54 ZULU

August 16th 2010

Gryphon Orbit

As the elevator headed towards the bridge, Carter studied her old friend out of the corner of eye. Jack was looking far too pleased with himself and she suppressed a sigh of exasperation. He was always like this when he was planning to spring a surprise on someone.

The minutes passed in companionable silence between the two but soon enough, the elevator slowed and they stepped out onto the bridge of the ENS Ark Royal.

"First, Second and Third Fleet's ready to move out, General." Admiral Kent announced, hands clasped behind his back in order to hide his impatience. "Would you like to fill me in on just what it is we're waiting for? Grand Fleet is ready and waiting to jump as we speak."

O'Neill nodded thoughtfully. "Thank you, Admiral, but we have one more friend coming to join our little gathering at Sohag and I wouldn't want them to miss out on all the fun."

Kent frowned in confusion, glancing at the databoard that showed his fleet tally. All of his ships were accounted for, though O'Neill did say his was going to arrange for some more units. _From where? We stripped the Alliance defenses to the bone to assemble Grand Fleet…I sure as hell don't know where he's going to get anymore warships!_

"Relax," O'Neill soothed the other man. "I received word by other means and…" The General's pocket began to beep softly, drawing both their attentions downward. O'Neill looked up and smiled. "They're heeeereeeee." He announced in a sing-song voice.

Admiral Kent didn't need to feign confusion as he looked at his superior officer as if he'd gone mad when behind him, his sensor officer twitched as his console suddenly screamed for attention.

"Admiral, incoming hyperspace signature! Incredibly fast, and it's big, sir…coming out, right in front of us!" The officer reported nervously. They weren't expecting any ships to arrive at Gryphon at all.

"Raise shields! Launch the ready fighters!" Kent ordered immediately.

"Belay that!" O'Neill overrode the Admiral.

The crew gasped and Kent turned to O'Neill incredulously. He had just enough time to turn back and face the forward bridge windows before the space in front of Grand Fleet twisted and rippled tightly before seemingly exploding to reveal a massive, silver/gray starship that dominated the entire area of space. The hundreds of Alliance vessels were like minnows around it.

"That's an Asgard Battlecruiser!" Admiral Kent breathed out in awe.

"Yep." O'Neill replied, smugly. "My old buddy, Thor, should be over there. In fact, we should be…"

"Incoming communication from the Asgard ship." A communication officer called out weakly, his face still pasty with shock.

"Onscreen." Admiral Kent ordered instantly, his awe plain to see.

The small, unassuming figure of Thor sat in his command chair filled the forward viewer. "Greetings, O'Neill. I'm sorry that we are late, but we had an urgent delivery to make."

"Not a problem, Thor, I'm just glad you could make it for the final showdown." O'Neill replied.

Thor inclined his head. "You have given us much, O'Neill, and asked for little. Though desperately that we need this ship back home, I can offer it's service to you for at least a short while. Long enough to deal with Bast and her Union, once and for all."

"Good to have you along, old buddy." O'Neill replied laconically before turning to a stunned Admiral Kent. "Admiral, Grand Fleet is ready for your orders."

A smile blossomed on the middle-aged Admiral's face as he scanned the faces arrayed before him, representing over a dozen different species. The Goa'uld had no idea what was coming for them. "Navigator, set a course for Sohag and feed the co-ordinates to the helm."

Most of the crew retuned to their tasks with renewed optimism as the navigator tapped in the final sequence and turned back to the Admiral. "Helm acknowledges the course, Admiral. The Fleet has responded and hyperdrives are powered up." She announced.

With one last glance at O'Neill and Thor, he gestured to the navigator. "Then make the jump…"

As the massive Asgard battlecruiser turned ponderously around, the lead elements of the Grand Fleet flashed into hyperspace. The first wave of carriers formed up with their cruiser escorts and destroyer screens and followed swiftly on the heels of the leading destroyers and corvettes. Space rippled and twisted as ship after ship directed massive energies into the folding of multiple, higher order dimensions that allowed them to traverse the vast distances of space in the blink of an eye.

The people on the western hemisphere of Gryphon watched in awe as their night sky was lit up with the tremendous glare of Cronau radiation from the departing ships. So numerous was the Grand Fleet that it took nearly ten minutes for the main body to make the jump to hyperspace and, after the final group of carriers had departed, the Asgard vessel, so sleek and powerful, brought up the rear with its escort of Alliance _Prometheus_-class destroyers and engaged its hyperdrive. The final elements of Grand Fleet departed the Gryphon system, leaving the battered but intact ENS _Daniel Jackson_ to watch over the planet, and the ongoing struggle to rid the Jaffa from its surface once and for all.

August 18th 2010

'War Hammer', high orbit of Sohag

"First Prime, I've just received a disturbing report." Ok'ran announced hesitantly.

He turned away from the mesmerizing view of so many Motherships, over twice as many as had attacked Earth and they still hadn't all arrived yet! There were golden pyramids of all sizes, as far as the eye could see and beyond. Literally hundreds of ships and enough firepower to destroy entire solar systems, they were all under his command. The thought made him a little giddy.

"And this report says…?" He replied casually.

His eyes grim with foreboding, the Second didn't try to soften the blow. "One of our mid-range bombers, a little over a thousand light years away, picked up a massive hyperspace wavefront heading away from Brakash, towards Thebes only sixty-two light years away."

Hek'at's eyebrows crinkled. Thebes he knew intimately, being a major resource and manufacturing Core World. Brakash was familiar too…he'd seen them both highlighted on a starchart very recently.

Reading his confusion correctly, Ok'ran swiftly supplied an answer. "Thebes and Brakash are both systems on a least time course from Sohag to Gryphon. They are on our planned course for when we depart tomorrow."

The pieces quickly fell into place for the First Prime. "O'Neill's coming here!?" He concluded incredulously. "Is he insane?!"

Ok'ran shook his head ruefully. "I can attest to his sanity quite well indeed. Regardless, it appears he has either anticipated our intended assault and has launched a spoiling attack or…"

"…he was always coming for Sohag, even before he re-took Gryphon." He concluded flatly. "Fek'shoa! How long till he gets here?"

The First Prime shrugged. "Assuming he doesn't linger to pound Thebes since we've left it essentially defenseless…" A part of his mind was amazed at the cutting remark that seemed to slip out, unfiltered. Was he feeling reckless now that Armageddon appeared to be coming?

"Yes, yes…Bast ordered the Core World fleet to converge on Sohag, not the most optimum of solutions, we've talked about this before...just answer the question!" Hek'at interrupted patiently.

Barely pausing to marvel at his good fortune (For Hek'at in a bad mood would surely have taken his head for such a statement), he provided an answer. "Tomorrow, at the eleventh cycle of the day."

Hek'at's eyes went wide. "But that's almost exactly when we had intended to depart for Gryphon! There's no way O'Neill could have known that!"

Ok'ran nodded. "I agree. I believe this is simply proof that the Universe has an evil sense of humour."

Sighing heavily, Hek'at walked over to his desk and slumped down into the comfy chair behind it. His weariness was a palpable thing, so much so that even his recent sorrow toward Bast had been much reduced, as if he could not even summon the effort to remain angry her for pushing him away.

"Well this makes things simpler. Send word to the diplomatic mission to Lord Sivar. Inform Bast that I think she should return to Sohag as soon as possible since no longer do we have to go to O'Neill for he has decided to place himself in our very laps." He looked up at Ok'ran. "Have you informed the Mothership commanders?"

"I simply placed them on a higher state of alert. I was not sure how much you would want them or anyone else to know. Everyone's morale is fragile at the moment and I think Lord Kiptakanae is ready to try and replace Bast as head of the Union. It would be like him to use this crisis to his advantage."

Hek'at held up his hand. "I'll deal with Kiptakanae, you concentrate on the attack. Bast's people down in the labs are putting the finishing touches to the phase-inhibitor and are ready to install it to the Iris."

"Will it work?" Ok'ran asked skeptically. He had long since become pessimistic during this war. Continual encounters with the luck of O'Neill and the Alliance tend to have that effect upon a person.

Hek'at didn't take offense, knowing how Ok'ran thought. "It'll work." He replied.

Chapter 7

End Game

August 19th 2010

Sohag System

The Sohag system's asteroid belt was incredibly thick. During the birth of the system, had all this rubble coalesced into a planet, it would have been a real monster of a world. Now, however, rocks, twenty miles in diameter carved destructive paths through literal swarms of asteroids that were merely a mile of so across, as the curved on paths affected by the gravity of the sun and the planets, tenuous though that effect was.

Suddenly though, a much stronger gravitic field began to affect the courses of the asteroids in a region several degrees across, for high above the asteroid belt, space warped and twisted and was torn asunder in an explosion of light as wave after wave of Alliance vessels dropped out of hyperspace in the enemies home system.

The alarm jolted Hek'at out of his study of a slate displaying the new Alliance ships designs. He had been trying to calm down after another fight with Bast who had refused to come home via the Chappa'ai and instead was coming back to Sohag with reinforcements from Lord Sivar. Welcome though those ships might be, and despite the problems between them of late, she was still his Queen and he her First Prime and the thought of her away from his protection during such a crucial time was more than he could bear.

Putting aside his frustration, he scrambled from his small office, across the corridor and onto the bridge of the War Hammer. "Report!" He ordered tersely.

Ok'ran passed him a slate that displayed a current scan of the system. "We just picked up a massive hyperspace emergence near the belt, on a least time course from Thebes. Energy signatures are consistent with Alliance design standards and the native vessels from their various member worlds."

Hek'at quickly scanned the slate and looked back up at Ok'ran with surprise. "There's barely the same number of ships he used to retake Gryphon."

The Second smiled tightly. "Which would have been enough to overrun Sohag's defenses had we deployed our reserves to reinforce the worlds that the Alliance had hit a week ago."

"And had Bast not brought all our Core World Fleet to assemble here, where we outnumber him two to one." Hek'at finished with a quick grin at the capriciousness of the universe. "Get us moving, Ok'ran."

Flag CIC, ENS Ark Royal, Grand Fleet

Admiral of the Fleet Kent studied his screens letting no sign of the dismay he felt cross his face and, for a moment, he considered a full retreat. A tide of red seemed to sweep across the holographic display, directly towards the blue cluster of dots that represented Grand Fleet. The ships in each of the five oversized 'battlegroups' looked small compared to the depth and scale of the Union Fleet bearing down on them and Admiral Kent could feel the tension thicken amongst the battle staff in the Flag CIC. Though these were veterans of a dozen battles and hundreds of skirmishes, even the numbers they faced today were enough to give them pause.

Hiding his horror at the unanticipated and unpleasant enemy strength before him, Kent watched the two fleets close the distance and reminded himself of the Second Fleet reserve force that was waiting two light years outside the system. The large gold icon, nestled amongst the blue of the reserve force, was his ace in the hole. The mere sight of an Asgard Battlecruiser had instilled fear into the hearts of Goa'uld for millennia and what with the recent lack of Asgard presence in the Galaxy for the past year, the arrival of one of their feared cruisers would hopefully shake the Union to its core.

As the tendrils of the Union Fleet seemed to reach out to encompass them, he began to issue orders in a firm voice that betrayed no nervousness or doubt, only a supreme confidence that steadied the nerves of those around him.

"Bring the fleet to flank speed, course 050 mark 005 absolute, -20,000km on the Z axis. Order the _Nimitz_ group to intercept that flanking pincer coming in at bearing 075 mark 070 but tell Commodore Han to stay mobile and not to get pinned down. We have superior fire control systems so let's use it. Have the _Shinano_ battlegroup break by squadrons and begin rolling back their light Motherships…and order all fighters to launch."

The last order, though expected, caused the staff to wince in genuine pain. The new missile the Jaffa had introduced, the 'mace', had cause losses amongst the fighter corp to rise by nearly 1000. Entire Wings had been savaged and although the Sabre fighters and Pegasus bombers were the Alliance's only plentiful resource, they weren't limitless and casualties today were going to be horrific.

"Their mission?" The Fleet Flight Ops officer inquired with suppressed emotions.

"Space superiority." Kent replied equally tonelessly. "Corvettes are to open a hole so we can send the bombers in to hit the heavies."

Standard tactics, fully expected by Hek'at and his Seconds but expecting a thing doesn't mean you can actually stop a thing. Though the losses would be far more than he'd be able to live with, Kent knew they'd get the job done.

Commander Singh, the TAO, narrowed his eyes as the Union Fleet deployed even further. "The War Hammer's coming out to meet us." He announced.

All eyes turned from their consoles to look briefly at the massive blood red icon of the Dhan'hak class Commandship. As the rest of the Motherships spread out to encompass the Alliance fleet, the 'War Hammer' appeared to be charging straight forward to embrace the enemy directly.

This was particularly brave of Hek'at considering the pounding his Commandship had received at the Battle of Sol. Of course_, I'd feel confident too if I had close to three hundred Motherships backing me up _Kent, thought wryly.

Shaking his head, the Admiral of the Fleet glanced at O'Neill, who was still stood silently near the entrance of the CIC.

His face unreadable, O'Neill moved over to the Admiral, leaning in close so as not to be overheard. "What's wrong?"

"There's too many ships." Kent replied flatly. "A lot more than we were expecting. How did Bast guess we were coming? She must have pulled most of the Core World Fleet to Sohag to get the numbers she has here!"

O'Neill grimaced. "Either she has far better intelligence on us that I'd like think about or it was coincidence."

"Bloody hell!" Kent's eyes widened in sudden realization. "Bast was obviously preparing for a major assault against somebody, probably us."

"Agreed." O'Neill replied. "And we walked right into it. I've always said the Universe had a particularly perverse streak of humor."

"Well that nails it then. We can't retreat. We have to nail this fleet here before it takes out Earth." Kent replied.

"Can you do it?" O'Neill asked firmly. Though Kent was right about the need to engage the enemy here, now, rather than in orbit of an a Alliance world, he didn't want this attack to be a suicide effort.

The other man smiled slightly. "They'll know they were in a fight, sir."

Union Commandship 'War Hammer'

Hek'at nodded in satisfaction as his force began to try and flank the Alliance force. Their numbers were less than what had been used to liberate Gryphon so they must have left a guardian force there. Of course, the ships they had brought with them now would have been enough to overwhelm the normal Mothership force guarding Sohag but thanks to Bast's seemingly precipitous order to assemble the Core World fleet at Sohag has given them an opportunity to destroy a significant percentage of the Alliance Fleet right on their very doorstep.

He laughed out loud. Oh, things didn't get any better than this.

"First Prime! The Alliance forces are breaking up!" A Second announced.

Hek'at turned from his study of his forces deployments to those of the Tau'ri, "Are any of them trying to make the jump to hyperspace?" He'd been expecting them to immediately turn around and jump out of the system…

"No, First Prime, they continue to close with our forces." The Jaffa replied.

Now Hek'at frowned and exchanged a knowing look with Ok'ran. They were outnumbered and outgunned yet they continued to court battle. In less than three minutes, they would be in optimum weapons range.

"Pass word to the other ships!" Hek'at ordered. "Go for the weaker Tau'ri and Adenan vessels. Ignore the Tollan and Susparti ships for the moment!"

"Kree!" The Jaffa replied.

The massive black and gold pyramid of the War Hammer, over 6,000 metres wide, seemed to glide with menacing grace towards the center of the Alliance formation. It's escorting Shal'kra class Motherships followed in formation with geometric precision, their weapons glowing with barely restrained energy. The other formations of Motherships spread out to encompass the seemingly ragtag Alliance Fleet, who's composition of a dozen different designs, was less than harmonious though far from disorganised. Alliance standard destroyers escorted Tollan cruisers

Literally thousands of Death Gliders, armed with their new tash'khat missiles, erupted from the hangers of the numerous Motherships like bees swarming out of a kicked nest and screamed towards the enemy.

Even though a shot had yet to be fired, the battle had already commenced electronically. Static filled many of the communication channels on both sides and their fire control sensors buzzed and strobed with false energy signals, active jamming and decoy emitters.

The Alliance forces, with Asgard-derived sensors and far more experience with electronic warfare, fared slightly better than the Union Fleet in the, what that famous British Prime Minister, Winston Churchill once referred to as the 'wizard war', the war of the black boxes.

Despite their disadvantage, the Union Fleet outnumbered their foe to such an extent that they could afford to simply target _everything_, decoy or not. In most situations though, the jamming on both sides was so strong that each ship, Union or Alliance, was reduced to firing almost blindly into the cloud of static, some gunners practically sighting their weapons by staring down the length of their massive barrels.

As the range finally fell, the Jaffa gunners almost slammed their fists down upon their controls and a searing, continual wave of plasma blasts shot out from the Motherships.

Seconds later, a literal rainbow of colour erupted from the Alliance battlegroups. White ion bolts, red graser beams, green plasma fire, orange torpedoes, a blazing mass of energy swept past the equally huge wave of incoming plasma and continued towards the Motherships.

Point-defense cannon on both sides was simply overwhelmed, despite the presence of massive ECM, gigajoules of energy washed over the shields of Union and Alliance alike and, sure enough, ships began to die.

**ENS _Shinano_**

The Alliance Battleship _Shinano_ heaved under the assault as plasma blasts slammed into her shields and the helmsmen drove the engines to their limits trying to avoid the worst of it. The crew of this veteran battleship, one of the first built, was just as scarred and battle-hardened as the ship itself.

Captain Francine Renato had steadfastly refused promotion or reassignment to what the rear area types perceived as 'bigger and better things.' A squadron command would look great on her record but she was nothing if brutally honest with herself and she knew that she was a great battleship captain but an average 'commodore'. No, since childhood, she had aspired to be a Captain 'under God', no more, no less.

"Have we got a fire solution yet, Guns?" Renato asked calmly.

"Negative, Captain, there's simply too much jamming for a lock, even tied into the Fleet datalink!" The gunnery officer replied, glaring at his readings with annoyance.

Renato smiled wryly as she glanced over his shoulder at his displays. The screens were a hash of static with definite hints of Mothership energy signatures appearing occasionally but he was obviously reduced to visual targeting with little computer support, making for highly inaccurate firing. "Do what you can, Guns. If I know the Commodore, she'll be making her move any time now."

"Aye, Captain!" The gunnery officer replied almost cheerfully.

As she made her way back to her chair, her Executive Officer, Commander Georgiou Maronitis shook his head grimly and spoke quietly. "Too many damn ships, sir."

Renato's smiled faded slightly and she dropped into her chair with a sigh. "I know, George, but what can we do except press on. You surely realize Bast didn't assemble all these ships to defend against our attack. She had no way of knowing we were coming. No, she was probably coming after the Alliance with this Fleet and Admiral Kent knows it. Better we take her on here, now, while she's surprised, rather than later on a battlefield of her choosing where she can surprise us."

The XO nodded sourly. "Ain't that the goddamn truth."

"Squadron Flag has ordered us to take point, Captain…the Commodore wants us to open a hole for the cruisers!" The Com officer reported.

"About time." Renato rubbed her hands together with anticipation. "Alright, XO, have our screen move to engage those light Motherships at 025 and draw them off! Helm, come to course 080 mark 010, half speed. Guns, target any of the big ships that you can lock onto and prepare to lay on everything you've got on my word. Com, inform Squadron Flag that a hole will be opened momentarily."

A few of the crew chuckled at that last order but they went about their orders with extraordinary calmness and trust in their CO. They had been fighting this war since day one and despite sometimes taking immense damage and casualties, they and their Captain had always managed to survive. Their trust in Renato was absolute and they would follow her into hell if it was required.

Renato watched the forward display as their screen, six Susparti frigates shot forward, white beams of focused ions licking at the shields of eight Brel'khet light Motherships that were themselves screening the bigger Motherships.

The Brel'khet's returned fired in a flurry of plasma blasts, pelting the smaller frigates as they screamed past. Three of the Motherships exploded under the intense assault but their return fire claimed two of the Susparti frigates. The other four frigates peeled off and the light Motherships turned in pursuit.

The crew of the _Shinano_ had been waiting for this and as the Brel'khet's fell out of formation, three Hat'ak's were revealed through the cloud of ECM that the light Brel'khet's had been pumping out.

"Target locked!" Guns called out in a burst of released frustration.

"Fire!" Captain Renato replied fervently.

The Shinano had held back at a respectable distance and with deceptive grace, the battleship swung about almost ninety degrees away from the Motherships, unmasking her broadside ion cannons. Eight dual turrets indexed in on the suddenly revealed enemy and a storm of heavy ion bolts erupted from the battleship.

The ion cannons, as with most of the Alliance technology, had been much improved over the years, especially since the Tollan and Susparti membership within the Alliance. Bolts of ion, each rivalling the heart of a naquada explosion for sheer energy, crossed the distance between the Shinano and the enemy in seconds.

Bast though, had a well earned reputation for invention and adaptation and it had only taken her a couple of battles with the Alliance Fleet before she had reproduced light, rapid fire plasma cannons that worked as 'interceptors' for incoming fire, much in the same way as the Alliance point-defense worked.

A web of yellow blasts erupted from the three Motherships and numerous ion bolts exploded before they reach their target.

Despite this, still more ion bolts found their way to the enemy and slammed into equally powerful shields. Gigajoules of intense energy washed over the Motherships as their shields strained to absorb the fire.

Alliance Intelligence kept fairly good tabs on all the System Lords, especially with the Tok'ra's help and the rumour was that Bast had attained improved shield technology from a very old System Lord who had returned to claim first Ra's, then Apophis's old territories. No-one in the Alliance had encountered any of this newcomer's Fleet for he had attacked on the far side of Union space but the Tok'ra had managed to get a name. Anubis. Apparently, he had been almost a match for Bast but in the end, she had been victorious and Anubis had fallen before her. She had claimed all of his new found territory and his few remaining vessels, onboard which were more than a few technologies Bast didn't yet possess, among which was the shield technology and certain large-scale energy weapons that, according to Tok'ra Intelligence, Bast was still have trouble adapting.

So thanks to Anubis, the two outer Motherships suffered a significant drop in shield power but little else whereas the lead Mothership, unable to prevent the lion's share of the volley from hitting home, had their shields brought down with sudden, disastrous finality. Strained past breaking point, the main shield generator exploded and section of hull at the base of the pyramid erupted outward like a finger of flame. This relatively small explosion was soon overtaken by the continuous storm of ion bolts that ripped into the now unshielded Mothership and the golden pyramid ruptured under the nova-like forces and exploded in a titanic blaze of light.

Union Commandship 'War Hammer'

Hek'at watched that tactical hologram with a grim expression as a division of Alliance _King William_-class cruisers charged past the expanding cloud of plasma that used to be a Mothership, their particle lances reaching out and slashing deep into the vitals of two weakened Hat'ak's as they slipped further into the right flank of that formation. The heavier Motherships slowed their advance as they turned to run down the cruisers, much as the lighter Motherships were still chasing down the frigates.

Alliance tactics were obviously to draw his guard units out of position, only to slip a knife into their uncovered vitals. His own Jaffa ship commanders had been drilled to hold the line no matter what but the sheer surprise of the Alliance attack had obviously shaken some of his Jaffa into making foolish mistakes.

Another part of the display caught his attention and he smiled with satisfaction. Though some of his commanders were shaken, even more were keeping their discipline as another Alliance battleship and a squadron of Adenan destroyers tried the same tactic on the far left flank. This time, however, the destroyers were caught in a web of counterfire from the Motherships that refused to be drawn out of position.

Three destroyers retreated back to the covering Alliance battleship, leaving six of their squadron mates behind forever.

"Curious, don't you think, Hek'at?" Ok'ran asked absently as he studied the hologram with increasing intensity. "It's a powerful force to be sure, nearly half of the Alliance Fleet but they simply don't have enough ships to meet ours face to face."

"They show no signs of retreating…" Hek'at replied firmly, though his face was showing signs of puzzlement.

"Exactly." Ok'ran continued. "We are missing something."

"Another fleet?" Hek'at wondered, "…like at Gryphon?"

The Second nodded. "Possibly. It's becoming a favorite tactic for them. Almost predictable. We should keep our forces together and assign a group to watch our rear."

"As you command." Hek'at replied wryly, with a glint in his eye.

His own eyes smiling, Ok'ran returned his gaze to his console and began to pass out orders.

O'Neill, Sam and Teal'c stood to one side in the ENS _Ark Royal's_ CIC and watched quietly as Admiral Kent moved his forces with the skill of a consummate chess grandmaster. A handful of Motherships would advance and he would fall back and envelope them, even as he would send squadrons charging at the enemy, trying to peel away their screen in order to get at the heavier ships. Through all this though, he kept pulling his ships away from the steadily advancing 'War Hammer' and it's Shal'kra escorts. The massive vessel was ignoring all his long-range fire and simply charging straight towards the heart of his fleet.

O'Neill suspected that Hek'at's intention was to split his fleet in half, allowing the Union to defeat them in detail and, with all Kent's defensive maneuvering, he was for all intents and purposes succeeding.

Admiral Kent watched his displays, well aware of the increasing number of looks he was receiving as he played an increasingly defensive strategy, something very much against his reputation. Ignoring these glances of concern, he kept his eyes on the numerous components of the advancing Union fleet and waited for his moment. Much like a dance, he pulled his forces away from where the Union Fleet pushed and advanced where they retreated, causing the two formations to seem to rotate gracefully in space, albeit across five thousand kilometers of space.

He had steadily been marshalling all the planetary assault forces to the right flank under Admiral Serena, when the earlier local assaults had proved much more successful. The Jaffa commanders had shown a distinct tendency to hesitate, obviously being rather more inexperienced, and he had decided to make his first move there.

"Communications, pass to Admiral Serena my compliments and inform her she may proceed against the planet at her discretion." Kent ordered calmly.

**Polarian Supercruiser PN-SC _Allegiance_**

When the Admiral's order came through, Serena practically leapt from her chair in CIC where she had sat, sphinx-like, since the battle began. Only the occasional soft-spoken command let her crew know that she hadn't fallen asleep.

"Alright people, you heard the man. It's time to earn our princely salaries!" She crowed. "Navigation, shape us a course that takes us through the right flank and to within three thousand kilometers of the planet and pass it to the rest of the strike group. Gunnery, we'll be moving through the Union lines fast so concentrate on keeping a hole open for us, disperse and co-ordinate your fire as much as you can without diluting its effectiveness! Communications, send word to Colonel Bannon, we're making our move now and transmit the go signal to Spearhead!"

Serena's Flag Captain, Commodore Caspien, stepped up beside her and spoke quietly enough that no else could hear his words. "Three thousand kilometers puts us well within range of the planetary defense cannons. The plan calls for us to launch our strike beyond the five thousand kilometer mark, just shy of their extreme range, and reengage the Union Fleet in their rear."

Serena nodded seriously. "I know, Caspien, and we will but I want their guns targeting us and not the strike as it goes in."

Caspien winced slightly. It was a gutsy move, one he should have expected from her, but he'd been fooled by her placid acceptance of the original plan, which called for the strike to brave the planetary fire alone, just as Admiral Kent had been fooled. Hindsight seemed to be operating perfectly as usual as he considered that Serena had never been considered placid her whole life. He sighed and moved back to his station with the intention of silently informing Damage Control Central that they would have to be prepared sooner than they thought.

"Course plotted and transmitted." The Navigator replied.

Admiral Serena's eyes narrowed. 'Take us in."

The massive engines of the Supercruiser burned with increased power and the _Allegiance_ steadily accelerated towards the Union right flank. Two battleships, a handful of cruisers and several destroyer squadrons escorted the _Allegiance_ and the Susparti _Strike_-class Carrier _Death Nest_ towards their rendezvous with Sohag.

The battered and broken ranks of Motherships on the right flank, their sensor and communication jamming equipment overwhelmed by the combined output of the eighteen Wraith units orbiting the fight several light minutes away, tried their best but they were simply overwhelmed by the sudden surge of Alliance ships and their pre-programmed defense fell apart. The assault group, now with its data-links intact and operating continuously, flowed past the Motherships like water, accepting heavy damage as they charged in amongst the remaining Motherships but dealing out twice the damage to the pyramid vessels, thanks to their carefully coordinated fire.

Two echelons of light Brel'keht Motherships detached themselves from the rear of the Union Fleet and moved to intercept Admiral Serena's force as it broke past the shattered right flank and into the clear.

The _Allegiance_ swung out wide, and repositioned itself between the Brel'keht's and the _Death Nest_, whose shield had held up well, despite losing 50 of their power during the run through the Union gauntlet. As a storm of plasma blasts pelted the battlegroup, the destroyer screen pulled back from its covering position near the remainder of the right Union flank and attacked the distracted Motherships from behind. The clash was over in minutes and the battlegroup, minus five destroyers, two cruisers and a battleship, fell back into place around the _Allegiance_ and the _Death Nest_ as they headed at flank speed towards the planet, leaving the wreckage of a dozen pyramids behind them.

Union Commandship 'War Hammer'

Hek'at watched the failure of the echelons to stop the Alliance breakaway with a grunt of disgust, disgust at himself for underestimating that oversized Polarian vessel and for not detaching more capable ships in the face of an Alliance battlegroup operating with full data-link co-ordination. The new small craft that had taken out the Gryphon sensor/jamming stations were obviously operating here again as well. Their effects were very noticeable in that his sensor range had been reduced to next to nothing and his communications were so sporadic so as to be pointless.

"Increase power to all sensor/jamming units!" Hek'at roared at the Second near the secondary console.

The Second shrugged helplessly. "We're already at maximum output, First Prime! I don't know how but the Alliance jamming appearing to be working at an efficiency several magnitudes above our own!"

Ok'ran looked up from his console where he was co-ordinating a dozen different echelons and glared at the First Prime. "This fight won't be won by technological tricks, Hek'at! Forget the jamming and start hitting the enemy with plasma!"

The First Prime in Hek'at automatically stiffed in outrage at Ok'ran's harsh familiarity but before he exploded the shock brought to the surface of his thoughts, the realization that his old friend was right. Maybe he had been around Bast's scientists and engineers too much.

Nodding grimly at Ok'ran, in acknowledgement of the older man's valid point, Hek'at walked purposefully back to the command throne and sat down with great deliberation. "Helm, full stop. The Alliance refuses to enter the War Hammer's embrace and I tire of this dance. We will anchor our lines here while the rear guard will sweep around us from all sides and envelope the Alliance Fleet."

"What about the battlegroup heading for Sohag?" Ok'ran asked more respectfully this time.

Hek'at, remembering the anti-phase device Bast had shown him days ago, dismissed the obvious planetary assault force as a serious threat. "The defense grid will swat their dropships from the sky like flies."

Admiral Kent watched the War Hammer slow to a stop and the rear most, as yet untouched, Motherships blossom outwards in all directions, clearly intending to envelope Grand Fleet on all sides.

"Admiral Kent, we just intercepted a transmission from the Allegiance, Admiral Serena has given Spearhead the go signal." Carter announced from her station near the fleet communications console. "Colonel DeSoto has acknowledged and is beginning the Sohag dial-up sequence."

Kent nodded at Carter as she finished her report and he turned to the CIC Alpha display that showed the main operational timeline. "Right on schedule." He murmured.

Gate Facility, Spearhead

Colonel DeSoto's fingers idly tapped out a beat as the Stargate rotated in an almost hypnotic fashion.

"Chevron five, locked!" Sgt. Jahara announced tersely. Though everyone had participated in countless dial-ups, so many that the entire process was usually considered quite a non-event despite the technology and distances involved, the Stargate suddenly found itself the focus of everyone's nervous attention. Though everyone on the base had been party to many hostile dial-ups, none had ever quite compared to dialing up the most fortified planet in enemy space.

DeSoto gently pushed a small thumbstick on the console to one side and the view on his display rotated to the right. SG-Beta, SG-Delta and SG-Gamma were arrayed around the Gate facility, awaiting the open wormhole where they would storm the enemy's gate in their Mod III Combat armour and its phasing abilities.

"Chevron six, locked!"

Everyone in the Control Facilitiy watched as a single trooper moved as close to the still dialing gate as he dared, carrying a stubby looking grenade launcher.

"Chevron seven, encoded and locked!" Sgt. Jahara announced with sudden finality. On their screens the Stargate burst to life in an explosion of quicksilver, which just as quickly retreated to form a shimmering pool of light.

Wasting no time, the lone trooper with the grenade launcher took aim and fired three rounds into the gate. The small spherical devices that disappeared into the quicksilver surface were not mere explosive devices, however. They were ultra compact, solid-state probes that contained a miniaturized phase device and sensors that produce instant scans of the surrounding environment.

The probes had hardly entered the wormhole before DeSoto swung around to the probes control console and the operator there.

Ignoring the sudden focus of the entire control room upon her, the technician at the console studied her instruments intently. "Tracking…tracking…arrival now!"

The screen burst into static and then, instead of displaying a rapidly jerking picture and a composite radar image of whatever was on the Sohag side of the wormhole, the image went dead.

No one spoke for precious seconds then DeSoto found his voice. "What happened?"

The female tech shook herself and then her fingers became a blur over her console. "Unknown, Colonel. All three units transited as normal. Wormhole readings were normal. Some fluctuations about halfway through transit but that looks like a simple close approach to a star, nothing to suggest a complete systems failure…"

The computer's second analysis finished and it beeped for her attention. She read the raw data and frowned.

DeSoto saw the change in expression and ached to ask her what was wrong but he bit his tongue and let her work the problem.

Unaware of her CO's inner struggle, she looked up towards a secondary console across the control room that was geared primarily towards scientific analysis. "Mark, what do you make of this emissions signature?" She asked with an emotionless voice.

The other technician swung back towards his console as he accessed the data she was sending him. He grunted with dismay. "Iris impact. It's masked somewhat, almost like interference but that's an impact signature for sure."

The entire control room exploded as one, chattering at each other with urgency.

"Everyone, quiet!" He yelled. The room immediately shut up and he nodded with mild satisfaction. Turning towards the female tech, he didn't try to hide his confusion. "Those probes were phased…how could they have hit the Iris?"

Opening her mouth to admit she was clueless on that score, she was saved from that admission by the other science technician, Mark. "Colonel, I think I have a theory."

All eyes swung down upon the lowly tech and he smiled for a bare instant before gesturing towards his display in obvious disgust. "The impact signature is clear as day. All three of them, boom, boom, boom. What I can barely decipher, and what Susie's console isn't geared to detect, is a strange, almost undetectable harmonic to the exit wormhole. I've never seen the harmonic before but just after each impact the harmonic increases in intensity. The harmonic covers the subspace frequencies used by the Tollan to phase matter in and out. I'm only guessing but I'd have to assume that whatever is producing that harmonic at the Sohag Stargate brought our probes out of phase just in time to impact against the Iris."

"Shit." DeSoto replied flatly.

No-one said nothing for several seconds until one of the techs stiffened in surprise. He put his fingers to the communications headset in his ear and grimaced. "Sir, Colonel Paresh is 'requesting' a status update…he wants to know if he has permission to go."

"No!" The Colonel replied forcefully. "Order everyone at the Gate Facility to stand down. And get me Caspien on the horn! That bitch Bast just neutralized everyone here…"

**PN-SC _Allegiance_**

Admiral Serena stared at the display stonily as Commodore Caspien finished relaying the communication from Spearhead. They were in a multi-way communication with General O'Neill, Admiral Kent, Marshal Tadeshi Roberts, Col. Bannon, Col. Avon, and Lt Col. Lyman.

Admiral Kent shook his head. "Well that tears it. We have to abort."

"NO!" Bannon, Avon and Lyman replied forcefully.

Despite the grim situation, O'Neill chuckled wryly. "I take it then, that you three are opposed to aborting?"

"Absolutely, Sir." She replied firmly, for all three of them. "With respect to Admiral Kent, we can still get the job done. All he needs is to keep the Union Motherships off our backs and we'll take the Stargate, Command Central and the entire top echelon of the Union all in one go!"

Marshall Roberts frowned slightly. "You'll be outnumbered fifty to one. I don't doubt you'll get past the palace defenses but without the reinforcements from Spearhead and the rest of the Alliance, you'll eventually be swarmed over by Jaffa. Sheer numbers will do you in."

"We're running out of time…" Admiral Serena warned everyone. "We're almost at the jump point."

Colonel Avon shook his head. "Then we simply have to make sure we take the Stargate. Let SG-Alpha and the Spartans go after Bast and her cronies. Omega company will go after the Stargate. We can shutdown whatever rig she's got running there and start bringing in the rest of our people. We can still do this."

The senior commanders exchanged glances and O'Neill nodded. "Proceed."

Sitting in a cramped chair, in front of the repeater console jammed deep into one corner of her Orca dropship, she smiled as O'Neill, Kent and Roberts disappeared from her screen, leaving her to face her combat commanders. Their images enlarged to fill the available space, now that the other three feeds had disconnected. "Alright, we're closing in on the planet, time to launch, four minutes. Whatever you're gonna tell you're people, do it fast. Good luck to you all."

The lust for battle seemed to flicker in each of their eyes and Serena suppressed a smile as they too cut their respective connections.

She pitied the Jaffa on the surface.

Union Commandship 'War Hammer'

In the hologram in front of Hek'at's command throne, numerous motes of light suddenly appeared around the two large signals that represented the Alliance carrier and its Supercruiser escort. The First Prime shook his head in exasperation. "I always knew the Tau'ri had guts, Ok'ran, but they were never stupid. What makes them think their assault ships can survive the surface defenses?"

Ok'ran glanced at the main display before turning back to his console with a grunt. "Probably about to unleash some new-fangled weapon that'll mash our people into the dirt." He replied, with a certain amount of gallow's humour.

Hek'at sent a quick grin at his friend before turning towards the Jaffa at the main console. "Inform Command Central that they may fire at their discretion."

"Kree!" The Jaffa replied.

Command Central, Fortress Palace, Sohag

Lord Kiptakanae watched the Jaffa receive their orders from the War Hammer with barely suppressed anger. How was it possible for his plan to fall apart before he even had a chance to put it into action!

He had intended to assassinate Bast today, before the Fleet left for Sohag, only to learn of Bast's secret diplomatic mission to the Separatist Goa'uld, Lord Sivar and though he was incredibly frustrated by her disappearence, he suddenly realized with wonder that Bast had made a rare political misstep. Yes, they needed reinforcements if their two-front war was to continue but Lord Sivar was a poor choice from a strictly political point of view. One of the few System Lords to control a Dhan'hak class Commandship, he was a power among the Separatists to be sure but his very strength meant that many of the Unionist System Lords had previously been victim to one of his attacks at some point and few in the Union would welcome his presence with open arms.

This kind of internal dissention played into his very hands. Even though Bast wasn't here, perhaps he could win leadership of the Union without having to resort to killing her after all.

Looking towards the small groups of System Lords that hung around the periphery of Command Central like sheep, he swallowed his instinctual disgust at their barely hidden fear and uncertainty and walked towards them, the epitome of calm and exuding as much confidence as he could muster.

"Well, Lady Amun'sul, I would imagine when you woke up this morning, this wasn't what you quite expected to happen…" He spoke disparagingly, gesturing towards the massive hologram that depicted the Alliance attack.

The Goa'uld Amun'sul, momentarily forgetting her apprehension of O'Neill's attack, glared at the other System Lord. "Save it, Kiptakanae. No one, not even Bast could have predicted this!"

Kiptakanae smiled conspiratorially. "Ahhh, yes, our glorious leader Bast. I agree, Bast could _never_ had predicted this." He replied, putting as much irony and scorn into his voice as he could. "And just where is our glorious leader. I don't see her here while we sit under the guns of our enemies."

"What are you saying, Kiptakanae?" Another System Lord asked grimly.

"Absolutely nothing at all." He replied cheerfully. "Far from it. I'm pleased that Bast is safe from harm, consorting with the very Goa'uld that we have been fighting all this time. We should all be so fortunate."

The assembled Unionists began to mutter amongst themselves. Kiptakanae bit back a smile as he watched them follow this line of thought to the conclusion he wanted as if he'd led them by rope all by himself.

In his self-satisfaction, he never saw a nearby Jaffa, who had heard every word spoken, surreptitiously access a tertiary communication console and send a brief transmission to the War Hammer.

"Incoming signal!" A Jaffa reported.

Hek'at turned away from the hologram and took the slate from the Jaffa. He read it briefly and looked up towards Ok'ran with a wide smile. "It's from Bast. She's back with Lord Sivar, the 'Blood Sword' and eleven Shal'kra's. She's ten minutes from emergence and asks us if there's anywhere in particular she'd like us drop out…"

Ok'ran looked up but without the answering grin that Hek'at was expecting. He gestured for Hek'at to come closer. "I just received word from one of my people in Command Central…its Kiptakanae. I think he's making his move, old friend."

The First Prime absorbed the news quickly, his mind working out all the implications in a flash leaving his face hard and grim. "Send a reply to Bast. Tell her to attend to Sohag. Attach the report from your Jaffa. We cannot move against Kiptakanae ourselves. Only Bast can."

Ok'ran was no fool. He knew that the balance amongst the System Lords of the Union was precarious and if Bast killed one of them for 'expressing an opinion' the rest might feel 'enslaved', and that was something that could bring the entire Union down. "What will she do?" Ok'ran asked quietly.

Hek'at shook his head. "Whatever she has to." He replied.

Dropship 02-Echo, Fleet Assault Wing Foxtrot

Altitude: one hundred fifty thousand feet from the surface of Sohag

Distance: three hundred kilometers from the Palace Fortress

Lt Col Samuel Lyman stooped slightly in his relatively bulky combat armour to look out of the viewport of his Orca transport, 02-Echo. On either side of the massive craft, similarly huge transports flew in formation. The ten Orcas, each carrying around one hundred troops and escorted by Sabre fighters were screaming down to the surface of Sohag, ostensibly to take the fortress in a direct assault, landing in and around the place grounds under heavy fire.

Lyman smiled slightly as he acknowledged that that driving assault craft, packed full of troops, into prepared fields of fire had been the way these things had been performed in the past but it was about time to try something new. The fact that Bast's had managed to neutralize the Tollan 'phase' devices so quickly had caught the Alliance off-guard but the SSD had long since provided them with something almost as good in this war and Colonel Bannon's idea to use it certainly had the benefit of being novel, for it had been a long time since the Spartans had been asked to do any parachuting.

The paratroopers in the unit were beside themselves with anticipation of what promised to be an interesting insertion.

Looking away from the viewport, he turned to his 2IC, Captain Francois LeHavre, who was studying the deployment plan one last time. "We're almost there, Captain, ready the troops." He ordered.

"Oui, Major." LeHavre replied with a grin. He had been a paratrooper with the French Foreign Legions and he was looking forward to making an extremely high altitude jump without a parachute.

One by one, the Spartan troopers checked the status readouts of their armour, secured their rail-guns to the magnetic plate on the back of their armour and made sure their anti-grav jump pack units were fully charged.

Lyman moved over to the main bay console and opened a tight beam communication channel to one of the other dropships.

A stern but beautiful face filled the small screen. "Lyman, are you and your boys and girls ready?" Colonel Bannon asked eagerly.

"Yes, Ma'am…we're ready to drop and bop!" He smiled fiercely for a second before frowning slightly. "I don't suppose I can persuade you to let the Spartans go in first? With the Wraith units essentially neutralized, the Jaffa aren't gonna be distracted when we go in."

The Colonel shook her head firmly. "We stick to the new plan, regardless. I need you right behind us. Once SG-Alpha opens a hole, the Spartans and Omega punch through. Then we fan out. Alpha and the Spartans head for the Command Central, Omega goes for the Gate."

Lyman snorted wryly. "I got no problem with the plan, Rachel, its just that Alpha's gonna get hit hard taking the lead in the drop. I wish you'd pass it off to us or one of the other regiments. We need you alive."

"Why, Samuel, I do believe I detect a hint of concern there…" She replied teasingly, batting her eyelashes at him for good measure.

Amazingly, Lyman found himself blushing and tried to cover his sudden embarrassment in a growl of annoyance. "Yeah, well your Master Sergeant owes me fifty bucks and I wouldn't want him trying to get out of the debt by getting his ass shot up."

Bannon nodded knowingly and let him off the hook. "We go in hard and fast, Sam. I'll see you on the ground."

PN-SC Allegiance

"Ground defenses are tracking!" The sensor officer called out.

"The dropships are entering optimum firing range!" Flight ops confirmed.

Admiral Serena listened to the reports coming in with studied calm. "Order the corvettes to advance before the dropships."

"Aye, sir." Communications replied.

Commodore Caspien stepped up next to Serena. "There's not enough Tollan corvettes to make a dent in the incoming fire their about to take, Admiral."

Serena nodded grimly. "I know, Commodore, but we need to keep up the pretense of trying land the dropships. Once the Assault troops have jumped, we'll allow the undoubtedly heavy fire to drive us off, as per the plan."

Caspien winced as the flat tone to her voice. The corvettes, not exactly numerous to begin with, were about to take a pounding all in the name of a pretense. He turned watched the communication tech talking to the corvette screen commander, a youthful Tollan who looked like he should have been in school chasing girls. The Tollan listened calmly to his orders and, after a bare moments hesitation as he worked out the reasoning behind the order and its likely cost to his people, he nodded once in acceptance and cut the channel with a small, grim smile.

On the holographic display, the eleven corvettes that were part of the assault groups screen accelerated away from the battlegroup and took up defensive formations at the front of the dropship assault wings. Together they accelerated to full attack speed and rushed towards the planet.

Yellow flashes erupted across the surface of Sohag and a wave of plasma blasts rose up from the surface to greet them.

Dropship 02-Echo, Fleet Assault Wing Foxtrot

"Green light! Go, go, go!" The crew chief yelled into his helmet comms.

Lt Col Lyman spent a microsecond admiring the crispness that the lack of atmosphere lent his view everything before turning towards the lowered ramp. The edge of Sohag's atmosphere and the storm of plasma blasts could just be seen from where he stood and without hesitation, he ran forward and jumped out of the incredibly fast moving Orca. Major LeHavre was close on his heels.

Despite being in high orbit, the gravity of the planet instantly took hold and they plummeted towards the surface. All around them, hundreds of assault troopers followed in their wake, their speed building rapidly as they were as yet, unhindered by atmosphere.

Plasma blasts of all sizes flew past them in an all out effort to shoot down the incoming Orca's.

Lyman checked his sensors as the last of his people left the dropships. The high velocities involved meant that entire drop had been spread over five hundred kilometers but this had been accepted, even welcomed and the distance was well within the maneuvering capabilities of the Mod IV Combat Armor to put their people on the target.

His computer sent him an audible warning as he began to enter the denser atmosphere. Steadily, friction from the increasing amount of air began to heat up the advanced skin of his combat armor.

His radio crackled slightly with increased ionization as it picked up a transmission from Colonel Bannon. "Bronze One, Alpha Six. Feet dry."

Turning his head slightly to follow the blue indicator on his helmet visor heads up display, he zoomed in on the small figure of Colonel Bannon. She had tucked her arms in tight along the length of her body and was plummeting towards the ground at frightening speed, her armour glowing cherry red in places. Right behind her was the rest of SG-Alpha in similar postures

He shook his head with exasperation. "Spartan Six. Feet dry." He reported calmly to Admiral Serena, Bronze One, aboard the _Allegience_.

"Omega Six. Feet dry." Colonel Avon reported a little breathlessly. It was after all, only his second jump but a quick glance told Lyman that the Colonel and his men were doing fine, if following a little slower, having jumped with their weapons in hand, rather than magnetically clamped to the back plate of their armour like SG-Alpha and the Spartans had done.

"Confirm, all units feet dry." Serena advised tersely.

Before Lyman even had a chance to acknowledge, his computer systems began to screech an alert as a dozen sensor stations on the surface lit up their powerful emitters and began sweeping the skies for targets. They had obvious begun to pick 'something' up, even if only visually though at the moment the entire assault wave was dropping through thick cloud. Dim yellow light pulsed through the cloud as ground defenses continued to fire up into orbit, at admiral Serena's ships.

Unconsciously holding his breath, Lyman waited for the alarm that would signal the enemy's fire control locking on to his space-suited figure. Thankfully, the tech's promises back home had borne out and the suits were too small and too well stealthed to be picked up. Instead, he heard frantic chatter on the secondary frequencies as the dropships and corvette escorts were steadily locked up by hundreds of the smaller surface-to-air installations.

The thick cloud flashed yellow with increased intensity as more ground fire rose up the meet the incoming dropships. His combat suits computer bleeped for attention as it finally got a lock on the Fortress Palace. A red box appeared on his heads up display and a projected course track drew a path that he was to follow in order to reach his target. Blue dots representing SG-Alpha swarmed ahead of him at fearful speed and with lethal intent.

Colonel Bannon's mouth was stretched back in a wild grin as she plummeted through the thick cloud at suicidal velocities. The clouds seemed to be suddenly ripped away and she found herself looking down upon the city sprawl of Sohag and at the center, the square, towering citadel of the Fortress Palace. Orange fire spat from numerous defense towers dotted around the city and on the parapets of the Palace and she began to designate targets for her descending troopers using intelligence gathered from Tok'ra spies and rebel Jaffa.

A rough hewn voice sounded in her ear. "Lot of Jaffa down there, Colonel." Master Sergeant Booth commented calmly. He voice giving no indication that he was plummeting through the atmosphere at nearly the speed of sound.

Bannon nodded absently as she plotted a course for a platoon from Charlie Company to strike a Jaffa armory near to the Fortress Palace.

"Have you decided where we're making our entrance?" Booth continued curiously. In the pre-strike briefings, they had decided on eight likely avenues of attack ranging from hitting them all simultaneously to striking at the base of the Palace or using the hanger facilities built into the Palace halfway up its impressive height, all the way up to landing at its highest point and fighting their way down. They all had their benefits and disadvantages and, because of the limited intelligence available to them, Bannon had decided to choose the hanger bay as their point of entry but making it clear that this decision would be subject to change during the assault if another opportunity presented itself.

Glancing at the tactical information once more she shook her head. With the Stargate neutralized, dispersing her forces to hit all approaches would be too risky. No, she was going to have to go with a more concentrated attack. "We're going with Patton-Three, Master Sergeant." She replied as she sent the corresponding signal to the entire strike force.

"Yes, sir." Booth replied calmly. The plan designated Patton-Three called for SG-Alpha to spread out during the drop, land and take numerous key choke points all over the Palace and the surrounding area, causing as much chaos and confusion as possible as SG-Omega and the Spartans pushed deep into Palace to take the Stargate and Command Central. SG-Alpha would be spread thin, however, and would have to hold their positions against literally thousands of Jaffa while the others fought for control of the Palace. Some of the battle planning staff had reacted negatively to putting Alpha in such a vulnerable position but they were overrode by O'Neill and Colonel Bannon herself.

Mo'khan smiled as Rot'al finished yet another bawdy joke. The joke, the latest in a seemingly never-ending string still wasn't very funny but Mo'khan was glad for it for it distracted him from the flashes of the fight going on in orbit. Yellow orange plasma lit up the night sky and the surrounding city as the blasts streaked into orbit like fireworks. Stood on one of the outer parapets of the Fortress Palace, the view from here really was exquisite.

Mo'khan had been a Jaffa for fifteen years and he had seen much combat against the Separatists and the Alliance and the overly loud propaganda of the Goa'uld Priesthood did little to shore up his confidence as the Alliance struck against Sohag. He had seen what O'Neill and his people could done when they put their mind to it and if the thought they could take Sohag, well…

"Come, my friend, Hek'at will shortly be done destroying the Tau'ri and their puppet allies and we can go back to taking on Lord Yu's Jaffa." Rot'a cried out. "I haven't heard anything from Ba'khat for a while now since we defeated his Legions on the plains of Atul!"

Shaking his head at his friend's simplistic view of things and thirst for battle, Mo'khan smiled while studying the battle raging in the sky intently. Whilst studying a billowing explosion, high in orbit, he frowned slightly as a dark shape suddenly occluded the expanding ball of plasma. The dark shape just as suddenly disappeared into the murk of the night and he scanned the sky with renewed intensity. As his eyes scanned the space between the stars in the sky, he began to see numerous dark shapes, numerous…things…falling from the sky!

"What the…?" Mo'khan slammed his fist against his neckpiece and his helmet erupted outwards from his collar armour, surrounding his head in seconds. The golden visage of a cat turned left and right as he studied the falling shapes with his helmet sensors.

"What do you see?" Rot'al called out as he too activated his helmet and swept the sky with his staff weapon, ready to blast anything out of the ordinary.

Mo'khan turned to his friend just in time to see him explode. Blood and metal sprayed the entire balcony and Mo'khan was struck dumb for precious seconds. Anger at the death of friend erupted from his heart, his vision almost going red with rage, gripped his staff weapon and started to swing about to target whatever had destroyed his friend with such callous precision.

He had barely turned halfway before one of the dark forms slammed into him, sending his staff weapon flying and throwing him across the balcony and into the far wall that shook with the impact. He dropped to the floor, his vision graying with the pain of numerous broken bones and a cracked skull. His helmet vision was static filled but just before he fell into unconsciousness, he saw several other figures drop onto the balcony out of nowhere, with the gracefulness of bak'lari dancers.

He recognized the combat armour of the Tau'ri and tried speak, tried raise his hand, tried to resist them but blinding pain erupted from behind his eyes and everything suddenly fell into darkness.

Master Sergeant Booth glanced at the fallen Jaffa and the scraps of meat that remained of the other one and shook his head. A lot more men and women on both sides were going to die this day. With quick, firm movements, Colonel Bannon pointed towards the door that led to the inside of the Palace. Two of her escorts silently moved to either side of it and one of them pressed a switch on the side that opened the door. A third trooper had pulled a disc-shaped charge from her backpack and the door barely had time to open before she threw it inside. The previous trooper hit the door controls once more, causing the door to shut and a mere second passed before a muffled thump went off behind the door.

A sharp nod from Bannon caused the trooper to open the door once more. The door slid open and smoke swept out of the gap, streaming into the cold night air. Master Sergeant Booth charged into the room, his XM-80 Widowmaker raised to his shoulder, the two nearby soldiers fast on his heels. Bannon and the rest of her platoon quickly followed the trio inside.

The room was a total mess, with wreckage and Jaffa strewn everywhere. An muffled alarm could just be heard through the door on the far side of the room. Ultra-high frequency sonar built into the suit 's sensor suite managed to penetrate the wall to a certain extent and revealed a fairly ordinary corridor on the far side. Two soldiers moved to cover the door as Booth slung his rifle and strode over to the nearest computer console.

Less than a minute of effort revealed that most of the computers linkages and systems had been destroyed in the earlier blast. A quick shake of his head relayed this fact to Bannon.

She grimaced once and looked towards the door while her suit computer tried to place her position within the Palace using the limited Tok'ra intelligence they possessed and the shared data between the other strike units. A composite images from these various data sources was quickly being built but the map still glowed yellow for uncertainty and a request for more data silently pulsed in the bottom right hand corner of her vision.

"Move out." She ordered. "Booth, take three and go left. The rest stay with me and go right. You know the plan. Seek and destroy."

The door slid open the SG-Alpha troopers pushed deeper into the Palace.

The first Spartan troopers to touch down on the large hanger pad that jutted outward from the palace did so with complete surprise and the first Jaffa targeted were killed without them realizing that the Alliance troopers had arrived. The Jaffa, however, rallied quickly and there was a larger than expected number of them around the main hanger. Staff blasts erupted from in and around the rows of parked Death Gliders and tel'tac's. Lt Col Samuel Lyman frowned behind the helmet of his advanced Combat Armour and altered his approach vector to avoid the worst of the firestorm. Choosing a fairly large gap between to of the goa'uld transports, he aimed his descending suit towards the space, his escort dutifully following behind him. Battle chatter filled the secondary communication channels and a small part of his mind noted with pleasure that none of it sounded panicky or fear-laden, just terse reports and snapped orders.

His suit's anti-grav unit whined with increased power as it dumped speed from his rapid descent, allowing to hit the landing pad with no more impact than as if he'd jumped off a three foot wall. (tech note - the suit could have allowed him to make a smoother albeit slower descent but that would have made him an easy target for whichever Jaffa happened to look his way.)

Several staff blasts slammed into the top of the transport behind him as a number of Jaffa had sent a few snap-shots his way as they saw more troopers land. As Lyman took his bearings, two of his escort moved to either side of the transport and began to return fire. The range was overly long for the close combat settings of the XM-80 Widowmaker rifle and the flechette rounds had dispersed over a wide area by the time they reach the target but enough fragments hit the target and the Jaffa fell back, some severely wounded, others clearly dead.

Within minutes, the first wave of over eighty Spartans had landed in the hanger bay. Staff blasts and flechettes filled the air but eventually, the Jaffa were pushed out of the hanger and into the surrounding corridors and transit tunnels. Clear of the fighting, Lyman stepped out of cover and studied the hanger bay in more detail. The walls and floor were a uniform gunmetal grey, with the usual Goa'uld hieroglyphs covering the walls and in places, the floor. He turned his attention to his people as the second wave of troops began to drop into the hanger bay. Spartan combat engineers were already assembling several automated sentry cannons in the middle of the hanger bay and the rest of the unit's sappers were scanning the floor intently with their armour's upgraded sensor suite.

"Here." The one of the sapper's called out, pointing to the floor. The others hurried over and Lyman followed. Seeing the Colonel coming towards him, Major Kaggestad, the senior combat engineer, sent his datafeed to his commander's suit, allowing Lyman to 'see' what the Major saw.

"That's the ring system?" Lyman asked cautiously. He had never seen the system other than the rings that appeared from the ground. Now, below his feet, he saw a ghostly representation of the rings and the accompanying power systems and transmitters.

"Yes, sir." Major Kaggestad confirmed, his words understandable despite the thick Finnish accent. "The system appears to have been locked down but I think we can get it restarted."

"Good." Lyman replied. "Get it online. Once it's up. SG-Omega uses it to go for the Stargate."

"Aye, sir." The Major replied. He snapped his fingers at two of his men and they knelt down to the floor and popped open a hidden control panel. Within seconds, they were engrossed in hacking into the Goa'uld computer networks, trying to re-activate the ring system.

Colonel Lyman turned away from them and looked for his 2IC. His suit sent out a request for the location of the Major and a visual indicator appeared on Lyman's heads up display. Major LeHavre was near the main entrance to the hanger bay, fighting off the Jaffa who were making another push back into the hanger. Explosions rocked the smoke filled corridor, flechettes and shrapnel hewing the dead that were strewn the length and breadth of the floor.

LeHavre, noting the location request, turned away from the fight and towards Lyman. He nodded for the platoon commander to carry on and he jogged over to where Lyman stood. "The Jaffa in the Palace reacted surprisingly quickly and they have us bottled up, Colonel." LeHavre reported. "They hold the key intersections at the end of the corridors whilst we hold the entrances. They can't bring enough firepower to bear in order to get into the hanger but we can't fight our way out without taking unacceptable losses. The corridors are owned only by the dead." He finished grimly.

Lyman grunted. He knew the fight would be tough but this was bad blow to their plans. He glanced at the sappers who now had the ring hatch open and were messing around with the guts of the system. "Alright, we try another way." He announced with sudden inspiration. "Major Kaggestad, I need two holes opened in each of those walls." He ordered, lifting each of arms and pointing at the walls to the left and right of the hanger.

The Finnish Major smiled behind his helmet. "When your door is blocked, make a new door?"

"Four doors, Major. Get to it." Lyman replied as he turned to LeHavre and pulled him towards the rest of the Spartans and SG-Omega who were still dropping in from the night sky. "Take two companies and work your way from the hanger, along the eastern side of the Palace, towards Command Central. I'll take two companies and push from the west. The remaining two companies can keep the Jaffa occupied."

"And once the rings are online, Omega goes down and opens the Stargate." LeHavre finished.

Lyman nodded. "Between us and Bannon, we'll give the Jaffa so many targets, they won't know where to commit to."

**End of Part 3.**

**Next: "And I built a house upon the sand..."**


	4. chapter 4

_Forgive the not great format, I **STILL **haven't got the hang of Fanfiction uploading yet._

_you can get a decent HTML version of the entire story from my website. See bio for details._

_ Hey, i'm only a couple of days late from my deadline. that's damn good gonig for me!_

_  
Enjoy.  
_

Chapter 8

When playing in the snakepit…

Command Central, Fortress Palace, Sohag

Os'uk, the senior Jaffa in Command Central, listened to the fragmentary reports coming from around the Palace with increasing dismay. He (and everyone else) had thought the Alliance ground assault defeated with the Chappa'ai blocked with Bast's magic and the incoming dropships repulsed by the massed fire of the ground defenses. Now, it turned out the small but numerous sensor return his Seconds had assumed was the wreckage from destroyed dropships and corvettes were, in actual fact, their damnable armoured warriors displaying yet another example of their hellspawned abilities.

Initial counts put their number at nearly a thousand, which, compared to the twenty-five thousand Jaffa in the Palace Citadel and the surrounding city, seemed like a small number but that equation didn't take into account their superior armour and weaponry. Disregarding heavy weaponry and vehicles, he would lose three to four Jaffa for every Tau'ri soldier, an acceptable price usually, considering the vast Legions of Jaffa available - but for this fight, here, he would be completely unable to concentrate his forces enough to make any appreciable grounds against the Tau'ri forces. Reports of disaster continued to roll in. The main hanger and surrounding facilities. The primary armouries in sectors 2, 7 and 9. The pra'kash depot on the Y'tar Plains. All and more had fallen quickly to warriors dropping out of the black night and who seemed to content to hold their gains while the warriors in the palace cut their way deep towards he Chappa'ai and the here, Command Central.

"Events seemed to spiraled out of control, do they not?" Spoke the silky smooth tones of Lord Kiptakanae from behind him.

Os'uk bit back a heated reply, (this was a God, however detestable he seemed…). "My Lord, it is merely a greater challenge for the Legions to overcome. A challenge worthy of the Jaffa."

Kiptakanae smiled turned into a sneer as he waved his hand dismissively and turned back to the other Unionist System Lords. They too could feel the tension emanating from the Jaffa in Command Central and knew that the alarms sounding inside the Fortress Palace did not speak good things of the ongoing battle.

"Well, my fellow Lords and Ladies, Bast seems to have gotten us into quite a fix. A shame that she is not here to share in the danger we now face." Kiptakanae commented sarcastically. He eyed his personal guard, eight Jaffa in pale, almost white gold armour. They stood silently amost the rest of the Jaffa belonging to the other Unionists. His First Prime nodded his head a bare millimeter but Kiptakanae saw the gesture and felt heartened by it. It meant that his Jaffa had made a few conversions amongst the other Jaffa. They would be useful when he made his move.

Lady Amun'sul, long-time supporter of Bast frowned darkly at the slippery System Lord. Over the past few weeks, and especially the past few days, Kiptakanae's subtle and none-too-subtle remarks had steadily ground away the general feeling of respect for Bast amongst the other Unionist leaders. She had watched him carefully, sure that he would make a play for leadership of the Union soon, though what she hadn't realized is that he would make his move during a conflict that could conceivably bring down destruction upon their heads.

"Kiptakanae, silence your tongue for we have yet to hear anything useful from you." She demanded imperiously.

The other Goa'uld turned away from his study of his Jaffa and looked at her with mixed amusement and disdain. "Ahhh, my dear Lady Amun'sul, lap dog and general underling of our esteemed leader, Bast. Tell me, Amun'sul, does your blind unquestioning obedience make you a bootlicker or merely a fool?"

Amun'sul's anger surged and her eyes flashed with murderous intent. She took a step forward and began to raise her right hand that held her ribbon device. Though she wouldn't be able to kill him, she could put him on his ass and that was more than sufficient to the moment.

"HOLD!" A strong, clear soprano rang out across the command chamber.

All heads turned as one to see Bast stood in the doorway to Command Central, four of her Praetorian Guard flanking her. Lord Sivar, a hulk of a man stood behind her, with two of his Jaffa in red-tinted armour on either side. She was an intimidating sight and the Unionist Systems Lords who were thinking rebellious thoughts suddenly found their enthusiasm quenched as quickly as pouring water on a flame. All the Systems Lords that is, other than Kiptakanae.

He raised his chin in defiance and began to make his way to the communications console reserved for the System Lords. There, hidden under the frame, lay the first piece of the ak'ri'tar, the ribbon device enhancement that would allow him to kill Bast in a single blast, despite her personal shield.

Bast watched him as he practically slithered across the command area. "Would you challenge me for leadership of the Union, Kiptakanae?" She demanded.

The other System lord merely grinned. "What would be the point? I doubt half the Unionist System lords would follow me even if I was to defeat you in honorable challenge. What would stop the next up and coming System Lord to challenge me for leadership, and so on and so forth, until only one God remained. No, I will not challenge you." His words were placatory but inside, his symbiote twitched in anticipation as he unobtrusively removed a rectangular square of golden metal, barely two inches long, from under the frame of the console and slide it into a groove on the ribbon device on the back of his hand. The glove-like device vibrated slightly with positive feedback from the additional powerpack he had just attached.

He laid his eyes on the main holographic unit where, among the data crystals, lay hidden the focusing unit for the ak'ri'tar. He waved dismissively at Bast as he casually made his way to the main holo-display. "Our enemies noose draws ever closer, dear Bast, yet you stand here to bandy words with me?"

Unsure of his motive and unbalanced by his passive-aggressive posturing, she allowed her attention to be drawn to the display. The Alliance forces were making another push, trying to destroy as much of Hek'at's forces before Lord's Sivar's ships, that were still in orbit, could move to reinforce.

She turned to the other System Lord. "Lord Sivar, my Fist Prime could use your help."

The other Goa'uld merely smiled grimly. He was a bronze skinned giant, with long, dark black hair and in armour so dark red so as to be almost black as well. "I will destroy the Tau'ri, where your companions have so obviously failed." He replied, pointedly looking at Kiptakanae. He held the gaze for several seconds before swiftly turning in place and striding towards the still open doors. He and his two Jaffa halted in the centre of the foyer and, with no apparent command, the ring transports erupted out of the floor and swallowed them whole in a flash of quantum light.

Flag CIC, ENS Ark Royal, Grand Fleet

Admiral Kent grimaced as the sensor office reported the large hyperspace signatures from the far side of Sohag, but even he wasn't prepared for the arrival of another Dhan'hak class Commandship. His forces were having enough trouble with the 'War Hammer', the last thing they needed was another of the damn things.

"Send word to Second Fleet, I want them ready to jump to these coordinates on my command!" He ordered, punching in a series of numbers into his computer. He had been hoping to pin the enemy with the battlegroups from First and Third Fleet and using Second Fleet, as well as the Asgard Cruiser, to engage their flank and drive them off but like every military plan since day one, it collapsed completely under the weight of reality. The enemy wasn't co-operating and he was being forced to commit his reserves far earlier than he would have liked.

A groan emerged from a knot of officers near the primary display. A Sintesian heavy battleship had just exploded under the combined onslaught of two Shal'kra's class Motherships.

"Where's Admiral Serena's battlegroup now?" He demanded. He couldn't see them on the display due to all the electronic jamming everyone was putting out.

An Ensign at the Flag Plot looked up at the Admiral. "Tracking last had the Allegiance Battlegroup rounding the third moon and shaping a course to hit the Union Fleet in the rear, on the left flank from below the ecliptic."

A Lieutenant beside her frowned as she finished her report. "We're also picking up the second Commandship and escorts breaking Sohag orbit and heading our way."

O'Neill, silent till now, took a step forward, out of the shadows of the Flag deck. "Do you have an I.D on the Commandship?" He asked curiously.

The lieutenant glanced briefly at Admiral Kent before accessing his computer. "Database has an 87 match with the 'Blood Sword'." He replied.

O'Neill turned to Kent with a slight smile. "Lord Sivar." At Kent's inquisitive look, O'Neill began to explain. "Sivar is your fairly typical Goa'uld, bloodthirsty, arrogant and more than a little insane. He's also one of the top six most powerful System Lords and one of the last people I would have expected to go Unionist."

"Then why the smile?" Kent asked impatiently as the Ark Royal rocked solidly from several long-range shots impacting against the shields.

"I'm smiling because Lord Sivar got where he is by being very cautious. While all the other System Lords were grabbing up territory once Bast realized the Asgard were out of the game, he stayed in the shadows, just in case it was a trick and the Asgard returned. He hates them and is very afraid of them. More so than most System Lords and that works for us."

"Psy-Ops." Kent breathed out in sudden understanding.

O'Neill nodded. "How do you win a war without fighting a war? You make the enemy think he's already defeated."

"Sun Tzu?" Kent asked with a smile.

"Homer Simpson." O'Neill replied hurriedly, and stepped back, away from the command station.

Stifling a laugh, Kent swung round to the Flag communications station. "Tell Second Fleet to ignore the previously issued co-ordinates. Once Admiral Serena engages the Union Fleet, they're to jump in behind the Allegiance Battlegroup and engage the 'Blood Sword' at close range. And make sure our Asgard friend is very visible while their doing it!"

"Aye sir!"

Main Hanger, Fortress Palace, Sohag

"Gotcha!" One of the combat engineers announced triumphantly as the dust and rubble from the holes in far walls to either side of them had a chance to settle. He was knelt over a panel embedded in the floor that moments ago was locked down and only had a few lights to show its secure status. Now, after eight minutes of hacking and re-routing, the panel light up with power. Data displays and indicator lights blossomed to life and Major Kaggestad, stood behind the sapper watching the Spartan troopers charge through the newly created doors, smiled behind his fully deployed helmet.

"Good work, Corporal." He turned to the assembled troopers behind him. "Colonel Avon, the rings are on-line! Ready your first group. I need five minutes to charge the rings and then I can cycle twelve people to the Gate ring transport every eight seconds."

The grim faced Colonel Avon of SG-Omega, veteran of Seige of Gryphon, nodded in reply. He turned to his 2IC beside him. "Major."

Major Jonas Quinn smiled briefly before jogging towards the ring transport area. "Second Squad, with me!" The ten survivors of Second squad quickly followed the Major and they with minimal fuss, assembled themselves inside the ring transports radius, facing outwards in all directions with their weapons at the ready.

Lt Jon Harper grunted as a he stumbled over a chunk of rubble from the destroyed wall but he didn't let it affect the steady sweep of his weapon across the room. "Clear!" He called out.

A chorus of repeated 'Clears!' met his statement. A quick glance at the tactical map that was becoming more detailed by the minute showed that Command Central was three sections to their north and two floors down. "Meguel! Porter! Take point!" Harper called out.

The two men nodded and ran to the far door and disappeared into the corridor beyond. The rest of the company continued to pour through the holes in the wall and follow on their heels.

Major Kaggestad saw the green light appear on the panel, indicating a full charge. "Ready, Major?" He asked Quinn tersely.

"Do it." The Major replied and before his words had even finished, the rings erupted out of the floor beneath them, slammed into place and in a intense wash of quantum light, were swept away. The rings dropped back into the floor leaving an empty circle once more.

Kaggestad turned to Colonel Avon. "Next twelve."

Stargate Chamber, Fortress Palace, Sohag

The Jaffa guarding the Stargate were already tense and nervous from the scattered reports they were intercepting from all over the Palace. The damned Tau'ri were everywhere apparently, killing everything in sight and destroying anything remotely of value.

When the high-pitched hum of the ring transporter began, the Jaffa scattered like startled quail to find whatever cover they could around the support pillars and decorative pedestals of the chamber. The rings burst out of the floor, assembled in the air and blazed with light, reassembling the scattered molecules sent from the transmitting ring unit, numerous floors away. The rings dropped away to reveal an oversized squad of armoured Tau'ri soldiers.

In less than an heartbeat, the chamber was crisscrossed with fire from all directions. After the initial bursts of fire, Jonas and his men dived for the floor, firing as they went. Two troopers, who were slow to drop, took nearly a dozen staff blasts in quick succession which massively overloaded the absorption abilities of the crystallized trinium weave armour and they were thrown backwards over they prone comrades, their fatal wounds an unholy fusion of melted metal and burnt flesh. Three of the more thoughtful soldiers scrabbled to pull multi-spectral smoke canisters from their belts and threw them around the room, instantly blinding everyone and turning a near fatal frontal assault into total chaos.

The Jaffa knew in general terms where the Tau'ri so they continued to spray the area with staff blasts. Jonas grimaced as his suits sensor suite switched from the standard vision, ignoring the infra-red which would be blinded by the heated phosphorous in the multi-spectral smoke, and jumped straight to ultra-high-frequency echo-location, a system similar to the old mine-sweeper sonar sets. Despite giving him a near crystal clear view of the room from his position, that vision showed that the Jaffa had good defensive positions for he couldn't really see any of them. The echo location sensors were like a spotlight, it allowed you to see anything you looked at but it wasn't very good at penetrating certain materials. He could clearly see the solid white of pillars, platforms and, faintly, the walls of the room. He could even see hints of what lay beyond the walls, even at this range, for they didn't appear to be that thick but everything else seemed to be solidly, and frustratingly, opaque to the sonar. The furnishings that Goa'uld routinely added to their rooms provided no end of suitable cover for defending infantry and his men lacked the heavy weapons to punch through that cover.

They had to move before the Jaffa started to kill them with grenades and lucky shots. Plus the second batch of men would be arriving at any moment. He and two others crawled to a nearby monolith that was uniformly covered in hieroglyphics. It wasn't perfect but it shielded them from the worst of the random firestorm. The smoke was starting to thin so he grabbed two smoke canisters from his webbing, pulled the pins and threw them in opposite directions. The combat suits IFF (Identification-Friend-or-Foe) transponders allowed his to see the disposition of his men.

Two were down, dead, just outside the ring transporter radius. Three were huddled by the DHD, another four were in front of the Stargate, using its closed Iris as cover as they blasted away at anything in front of them. Then there was him and his two escorts.

A high pitched hum filled the room and the ring transporter activated once more, its scanner/emitter units levitating out of the ground, assembling in a cylindrical column and depositing another twelve troopers into a room filled with smoke and wild shots. The intensity of the fire rose rapidly as the Jaffa, prepared now, for the second wave, concentrated their fire once more at the center of the room.

Though nearly all of the second wave took one or two shots, the smoke prevented the incoming fire from being concentrated enough to penetrated the armour and all the troopers survived, though half were wounded to some extent, to drop to the floor and scramble to cover.

The gloom of the chamber, thickened by the smoke, was suddenly light up as the main doors slid open and the bright light from the corridor illuminated the smoke like a neon tube. A squad of Jaffa had arrived to bolster the defences but unfortunately, they were silhouetted in the doorway and were clearly visible on the sonar frequencies as well. Over a dozen XM-80 Widowmakers fired as one and the Jaffa were seemingly ripped apart in a storm of hyper-velocity flechettes.

The other Jaffa in the chamber were stunned by this and their fire slackened noticeably. With no orders or pre-planned co-ordination, all the SG-Omega troops in the chamber took the opportunity to hit the Jaffa positions in a storm of close range fire and hand to hand combat.

Jonas Quinn grunted as he and his escorts ran to their left, towards a marble-like plinth. His two comrades ran to either side of the massive block, swinging left and right respectively to clear the pillars to either side of the plinth. As Jonas neared the massive block of stone-like material however, he jumped up, placed a foot on the top of the plinth and launched himself higher, over the heads of the Jaffa crouching behind it.

As he went flying through the air, he peppered the Jaffa below him with flechettes and by the time he landed nimbly on his feet, a heartbeat later, there were no Jaffa left alive in their section of the chamber.

Overwhelmed by the sudden charge, when the rings activated once more, depositing a third group of SG-Omega troopers, barely a third of the Jaffa were still fighting and only two managed to get shots off at the direction of the ring transporter.

By the time the forth group arrived, the Jaffa were all dead.

Jonas, taking a deep breath in the sudden silence, stood up and looked around. The new arrivals were already taking up a position outside the chamber, securing the corridor outside. The rest were attending to their wounded friends. He stepped out from behind the marble plinth and walked up to the DHD and the Stargate, the thinning smoke swirling about his armour. He was met by one of his troopers, Sgt Kwon, who had just helped one of the wounded soldiers to a sitting position against the round pedestal.

"Major." The Sergeant greeted Quinn grimly.

Jonas nodded in reply. "How bad?"

"Lewis and Talynn are dead. Heinrich, Parker and Running Water are hurt badly; they need an evac or at least a surgical team, as quickly as possible. A few others took some light injuries, flesh wounds, some burns, they're still good to go." Kwon reported studiedly. "Not too bad all things considered."

Quinn nodded. No, not too bad at all. "Not that I'm complaining but they should have had more Jaffa here guarding the 'Gate."

The Sergeant grinned behind his helmet. "You'd think. Maybe Colonel Bannon's people have all drawn them out of position. I mean, who needs to guard a Stargate when you don't have to worry about anything coming through."

Again, Quinn nodded at Kwon's point. "Speaking of which, let's take a look at this anti-phase boondoggle."

The two men walked over to the left of the Stargate where another trooper, his weapon leaning against the gate beside him, helmet retracted and back to the approaching duo. From Quinn's viewpoint, thanks to his onboard computer and the holographic heads-up display, the trooper's name floated ghostlike in front of him.

"Corporal Chin, what have you got?" Quinn asked briskly.

The other trooper turned round, revealing a small bench with what appeared to be a standard Goa'uld naquada reactor hooked up to what was obviously the anti-phase emitter and another non-standard piece of glittering Goa'uld technology. "We gots problems, sir."

Jonas turned from the grim looking trooper to the mass of equipment before him. His eyes fell on the Goa'uld Class Nine Anti-Tampering Unit and his heart froze.

"Aw hell."

Flag CIC, ENS Ark Royal, Grand Fleet

O'Neill stood silently at the back of the Flag CIC, much like he had done for years, in countless situations but with a single, incredibly frustrating difference. He wasn't contributing anything to the fight. He glanced to his left. Carter was over there with the sensor section, trying to divine information from the storm of electronic countermeasures that was raging across the Sohag system. To his right, in a small closed off booth, Teal'c was sat beside two grim looking officers from Alliance Intelligence who were intercepting any and all Goa'uld transmissions. They were, after all, in the heart of Goa'uld territory and who knew what priceless information they could pull from the electronic ether.

He shook his head. Was he becoming obsolete? He was now too old and important to go on ground combat missions and, despite the carefully hidden astronautical degrees he held, he felt more than a little out of his depth with all the new technology he had helped to bring about. He smiled wryly at the irony. For years he had feigned ignorance in front of Carter when she began to get technical, when really he knew quite a bit about what she was trying to do. Now, he really was becoming out of his depth. Oh, he still knew more than enough to be able to understand what his people and their equipment could do, it was just that he had to lean on the technical experts a little more than he ever used to.

The ship shook once more as another plasma blast slammed against the Ark Royal's shields. The 'War Hammer' had found the range once more. O'Neill felt the ship surge forward, the massive carrier's Captain obviously trying to hide in the cloud of electronic interference once more.

"Position of the _Allegiance_?" Admiral Kent demanded. Admiral Serena was a fine officer but her battlegroup was vulnerable, flying around the system on its own as it was. And with Serena being the independent gung-ho officer she was, she showed no signs of rejoining the main body of Grand Fleet.

Commander Singh, the Tactical Action Officer, was stood at the Flag Plot. He looked up at the Admiral, worry in his eyes. "Clear of the third moon and entering weapons range in three minutes. The 'Blood Sword' and her group are approximately eight minutes behind them and closing."

Admiral Kent glanced at the Primary Tactical display and saw for himself the pulsing blip of the Admiral Serena's battlegroup, burning clear and bright despite the jamming.

The battle had been going on for some time now and the electronic warfare teams were getting better at defeating the jamming the Union vessels were pumping out. The squadron of _Shadow_-class craft that orbited the fight at nearly twenty light minutes out helped immensely. Their sensor feeds, in continuous data-link with the rest of the Fleet allowed for a composite picture of the battle to be built, according them an overview of the fight that the Union didn't, _couldn't_, have.

"We're getting a signal from the surface. Faint but readable." The communication officer announced. "It's from Colonel Avon. SG-Omega have secured the Stargate!"

A cheer rose up around the Flag CIC. Kent smiled briefly and nodded for the officer to continue his report.

The young man shook his head slightly. "They say the anti-phase device Bast has erected is protected by one of their anti-tampering units. Estimate at least thirty minutes to an hour before they can open the Stargate."

Kent frowned and glanced at O'Neill who merely shrugged. Good news that they controlled the Stargate but not as great as they'd hoped for since Bast was yet again, one step ahead of them. They Ground Force combat engineers had a fair amount of experience with the ATU's and though they could be defeated safely, without detonating the naquada reactor that usually accompanied them, it took time. A lot of time, and that was something they were in short supply of. With the Stargate still closed, the battalions of troops on Spearhead were still essentially useless.

"We've gotta keep pushing, Admiral." O'Neill advised.

Admiral Kent nodded grimly. He turned round to the display. Admiral Serena's battlegroup was entering firing range. "Order Second Fleet in now!"

Commandship 'Blood Sword'

Lord Sivar growled with anticipation. His fleet had almost closed in on the Alliance ships that had led them a merry chase from Sohag after dropping their warriors onto the planet from space! But now he had them! They had reached the rearmost ranks of Hek'at forces and had begun to fire upon the ships that we re trying re-orient on this new attacker that had slingshot round the third moon, using its gravity well to accelerate their ships to impressive velocities but they had to slow to truly engage the enemy and that meant he could catch them between two fires.

He had heard that this was a favorite tactic of the Tau'ri and it warmed his heart to be able to turn the tables on them so.

The forward display showed the tremendous battle in all its glory. Explosions erupted everywhere. Deathgliders, Al'kesh and their Alliance equivalents fought furiously and their numbers diminished with bloody haste. Destroyers, cruisers and battleships fought hard against Motherships of all sizes. Shields were weakened and fell, armour was melted and torn apart. Oxygen streamed everywhere, leaving glittering cloud-like trails across the battlefield. Wreckage drifted around and ships on both sides used it for cover as they hunted each other down.

It was bloody and vicious. It was glorious!

"Entering extreme weapons range!" His First Prime announced.

Sivar surprised his Jaffa, who were expecting an immediate order to open fire. "Wait until we have positive locks on the enemy. I want my first blow to kill them, not merely tickle them!"

His First Prime smiled in reply and turned back to the primary console. A sensor display beeped and a Second glanced down at his display. His eyes went wide and his face drained of all blood. "INCOMING HYPERSPACE SIGNATURES!"

Sivar half stood from his command throne. "What…"

Space rippled and twisted into knots of bright blue light, only to burst open as Second Fleet came screaming out of hyperspace beside Lord Sivar's massive Commandship and his multiple squadrons of Shal'kra Motherships.

His eyes widened as the Tau'ri battleships, Susparti dreadnoughts and their escorts shook down quickly into formation and began to close the range. But that wasn't what turned his heart to ice and filled his symbiote with fear. No, that was all because of the single Asgard Battlecruiser, prominently displayed in the lead of the formation. The first ion bolts and beams from the enemy reached out and licked at his vessel's shields.

"ASGARD!" He screamed with a mixture of rage and fear as the Blood Sword shook despite its great mass. "THAT LYING BITCH SAID THEY WERE ALL GONE!"

His First Prime, shaken by the sudden appearance of their most hated foe, turned to his God fearfully and suggested what he knew his God could not. "We must retreat, my Lord! The Demon's were obviously waiting for us!"

His eyes blazing, Sivar tried to regain some of his composure and his gaze settled on his faithful First Prime. The Jaffa was right, in more ways than one. He wave his hand, gesturing for him to go ahead.

The First Prime spun back to his console and frantically began to order his ships to retreat.

Lord Sivar would not risk the wrath of the Asgard again for he had paid terribly in the past.

Bast was on her own.

Union Commandship 'War Hammer'

"What the…?"

Hek'at watched with sick despair as the long awaited Second Fleet dropped out of hyperspace almost exactly where he had predicted earlier to Ok'ran. What they hadn't guessed was that they would bring an Asgard Battlecruiser! He studied the data as it streamed across his display and grunted with foul humor. They didn't do things by halves either. That was _O'Neill_ Class battlecruiser as well; their latest design with state of the art shields and weapons and, combined with its escorts, more than a match for Lord Sivar's forces.

Ok'ran smashed a fist into his console. "Well that tears it. We were handling O'Neill up to this point but if he's brought an Asgard vessel to the fight…"

Hek'at nodded absently as he studied his holographic display. Lord Sivar's forces were altering course and opening the range between them and the Asgard. The First Prime tried to feel angry with the System Lord but found that he couldn't, not when faced with _that_ concentration of potential firepower.

Ok'ran came up beside him. "It's going to take the entire Group 1 and 2 to deal with Second Fleet and that cruiser." He commented quietly.

"The question is, old friend, can the rest of the Fleet hold the line against the forces we already face while we take a full third of our numbers and nearly half of our total strength to do it?" Hek'at replied.

The other Jaffa shrugged helplessly. "I see no alternative."

Hek'at shook his head. "Neither do I. Send the orders. Pass command of this fight Second Bra'nac on the 'Knife of Revenge'. Tell him to simply hold the line against Kent while we take groups 1 and 2 and try to kill Second Fleet and that thrice-damned Asgard ship."

Flag CIC, ENS Ark Royal, Grand Fleet

Once again, a cheer broke out among the battle staff briefly when the Second Fleet dropped out of hyperspace. Kent smiled with satisfaction when, instead of holding and waiting for Hek'at to reinforce, Lord Sivar began to run. O'Neill had analyzed Lord Sivar's response to perfection.

Even as the 'Blood Sword' and his escorts flew clear of Sohag's gravity well and began to jump into hyperspace, the core of Hek'at's forces were beginning to rearrange themselves and head towards Second Fleet.

He smiled. Hek'at had done tremendously well and held his forces together admirably. His Union Fleet commanders had performed almost as well as the far more disciplined Alliance Fleet but now, with so many axis of attack to deal with, Hek'at was finally being force to split his forces. "And about bloody time." Kent murmured. He glanced over at O'Neill, smiled briefly, and returned his attention to the fight. "Alright, launch the reserve fighters and send every bomber we have against that left flank! Now that Hek'at's core force is reorienting to the rear, the forces facing us have been thinned considerably and have little in the way of support. Those Jaffa commanders should be getting nervous right about now and I don't want to give them time to realize they still have more than enough forces to settle our hash if they simply keep their heads. Oh, and inform Admiral Serena that she'd better turn about once more and form up with Second Fleet. She's right in the path of Hek'at's forces."

The battle staff began to pass out the relevant orders as Commander Singh passed a datapad to the admiral. Kent studied it quickly, his confident smile faltering slightly. The datapad gave an update on ship and personnel losses, as well as expended munitions to date. The battle so far had been costly for little gain other than a toehold on Sohag that still had every chance of being overwhelmed. This final attack had to push the Union Fleet to collapse or he would have to abandon the troops on the planet and retreat, salvaging what ships and crews he could.

Fortress Palace, Sohag

They were only about five hundred meters or so from Command Central, or so his inertial navigation system told him. Coming to a sharp turn, Sgt Porter leaned out carefully to see what was down the corridor.

He jerked back around the corner almost spastically as a half dozen staff blasts slammed against far wall. "Shit!" He cursed breathlessly. Only his lightning reactions had saved him from taking a hit. PFC Meguel saw that his friend was okay, pulled two fragmentation grenades from his webbing, pulling their pins as he did so.

Porter saw this and nodded. Sliding to the edge of the corner once more, he swung his rifle out and, using his gunsight connected to his holographic heads-up-display, began to fire down the corridor. "Eight Jaffa, manning a barricade." A snort. "Looks like a table." He reported. With barely a pause, Meguel moved to the opposite wall, careful not to expose himself to the Jaffa. Aiming for a spot against the corridor wall, he threw the first and then the second grenade, both of which bounced off the wall and fell in front of the Jaffa positions. They dropped back from the corner and waited for the explosion. Two seconds later, a clearly muffled thud could be felt through the floor. Looking at each other in confusion, Porter slid back to the corner and carefully pointed his weapon around the corner once more. Through the haze, he could clearly see the mangled body of a Jaffa where the grenades had landed. He had obviously jumped on the grenades to prevent them from clearing the blockade.

He turned to his partner. "Okaaay. So they're fanatics as well."

The rest of the Spartans appeared behind the two point men and Lt Harper made his way to the front. "What's the problem?"

Sgt Porter turned to his commander. "Barricade, sir. We tried grenades but the Jaffa simply jumped on them, absorbing the blast."

Harper nodded. "We're close to Command Central and that means we're close to Bast. They're probably Praetorian Guard."

The two point men frowned. "So whadda we do?" PFC Meguel asked plaintively.

Harper turned to the men behind him. "The Goins have just the thing for these guys." He replied wryly.

The two brothers had been silently listening to the conversation like everyone else but once they heard their names mentioned they smiled and moved forward. They had been waiting to hit some hard resistance because they would have hated to haul their load all the way down here for nothing. With the ease born of mind-numbing repetition, the quickly set up the heavy crew served weapon they operated between them. The XM-405 Plasma cannon was a relatively light weapon albeit quite bulky. In less than a minute, the two brothers had the cannon deployed and hooked it up to the backpack fuel cell David carried. Mickey lay down on the floor, his feet facing in the same orientation as the corridor, towards the Jaffa. He hefted the weapon between his legs and nodded to Lt Harper. The First Lieutenant snapped his fingers at Sgt Porter who pulled his last two remaining grenades from his webbing and stood against the far wall once more. Master Sergeant D'evilenger stood in the background with another squad of troopers, ready to rush down the corridor once it was clear.

With everyone in position, Harper counted down. "Three…two…one…NOW!"

Porter hurled his grenades against the wall once more. They bounced off and fell in front of the barricade, against the bloody mess that was previously a Jaffa. Waiting for several heartbeats for the Jaffa to take cover and allow one of their number to sacrifice themselves again, David pushed his brother along the floor, into the corridor.

Sighting the length of his body, Mickey's eyes met those of the Jaffa trying to climb on top of the grenades. "Surprise." He murmured, and pulled the trigger.

Six high intensity lasers hit a uranium pellet that was loaded into the center of the focusing chamber of the plasma cannon. These lasers ignited the fusion process within the pellet and the resulting eruption of intense energy that rivaled the core of a star was channeled down the stubby barrel and blasted down the corridor.

Actinic silver light flared and intense heat washed over the Spartan troopers, even through their armor.

When Lt Harper looked up, Mickey was pushed up against the wall behind him, the modest recoil having made him slide backwards. He leaned out into the corridor and winced as he saw the scorched and melted walls. Of the barricade, barely anything remained, the star-like plasma having washed everything away.

"I'd say you killed that puppy, Corporal." Harper commented mildly.

The other man grinned behind his faceplate. "Peace through superior firepower, sir."

Command Central, Fortress Palace, Sohag

A loud explosion, muffled by the thick doors to the command center, could be heard somewhere nearby in the Palace. A little dust fell from the ceiling but Bast ignored it. After Sivar's retreat, her anger was becoming all consuming.

O'Neill's forces were swarming through her fortress palace, cutting through her defenses like a knife through butter. There was still some good news. They had taken the Chappa'ai Chamber but they had not yet managed to work past the anti-tamper device her people had placed there. If she could concentrate her defenders inside the Palace and hold the enemy where they were, she could regroup her forces from outside the Palace and counter-attack. First she needed to…

"Things are looking grim, are they not?" Kiptakanae's silky smooth tones a stark contrast to the harsh, clipped orders passed from Jaffa to Jaffa as they tried to direct both the fight in orbit and the defense of the Palace and at the moment, neither was going very well.

"I will not tell you again, Kiptakanae. Unless you have something constructive to say or you wish to challenge me, remain quiet!" Bast replied heatedly.

Kiptakanae's carefully crafted mask slipped momentarily to reveal the simmering hatred beneath but he quickly schooled his features back into a studied display of nonchalance. He was going to wait a little while longer to strike but her sudden command snapped something deep inside him. For almost ten years he had listened to her orders. Ten years he had plotted. Ten years he had waited for the right time to strike. He smiled internally. Lord Yu had spent much time and resources preparing for this moment, promising much if he would only kill Bast for him…as if he were no more than an Ash'rak assassin! Well, Lord Yu could join Sokar in Hell because he had every intention of taking the Union and everything in it for himself. He glanced at his Jaffa once more. His eyes met the Second there and silently the signal to move passed between them.

The Jaffa of Kiptakanae, and those of other System Lords allied with him, leapt into action, their staff weapons slammed into the other Jaffa still Loyal to the Union.

Bast turned in amazement at the sudden commotion as, predictably, her Praetorian Guard placed themselves between her and the fight. Unfortunately, that left her wide open to Kiptakanae who smoothly placed a small naquada ring, two inches wide, over the crystal emitter embedded in the palm of his ribbon device. The ring was a focusing enhancement and the last piece of equipment he had hidden in Command Central that turned a standard ribbon device into the far more lethal ak'ri'tar. As the final piece slid into place, the crystal glowed an intense white and among all the Jaffa in the hall whose helmets were deployed around their heads, they simultaneously received an urgent warning from the weapon detectors built into Command Central's fixtures.

Her Praetorian Guard, realizing the source of the danger, tried to turn around in time but Kiptakanae gave them no chance. He smoothly raised his hand and, his eyes flashing in satisfaction, sent and concentrated pulse of energy at Bast. The bolt slammed into her shields, slowing somewhat at the shield perimeter but punching through never the less and slamming into her chest. She flew backwards, over the heads of her guard and fell to the floor like a broken toy.

Enraged the Praetorian Guard opened fire at Kiptakanae and everyone else. As Command Central dissolved into blood and chaos, Kiptakane simply stood there, staff blasts bouncing off his shields while he looked at Bast's body and laughed.

Union Commandship 'War Hammer'

"We just lost the 'Knife of Revenge' and the 'Hammer's Song'." Ok'ran reported to Hek'at despairingly. "Kent slipped a fresh bomber strike past Bra'nac's defenses and he paid the price."

The First Prime slammed a fist down upon the arm of his command throne. "Every time a mothership tries to regain control of the fleet, Kent pounds it to scrap. We've lost most of the senior sub-commanders and the formation's falling apart!" He forced out through clenched teeth. The fight had started with at least a two to one advantage in the Union's favor. Kent had hit them so hard, the numbers were now about even. Oh how Hek'at wished he had wiped the face of the Tau'ri homeworld clean when he had the chance.

Reining in his anger, Hek'at took a deep breath and faced Ok'ran soberly. "The bastards are simply too damned good at war, old friend."

The First Prime had pulled his ships together into a tight, bastion-like formation that had worked for the Union Fleet on numerous occasions but that Asgard battlecruiser kept leading flanking attacks that would carve a squadron or two from his formation and allow Kent to pummel them into submission.

A Jaffa looked up from his console. "First Prime. Lord Uthwe sends his apologies but wishes to inform you that he is taking his ships and falling back to his territory."

"What?!" Ok'ran replied frantically. On the tactical display, seven Motherships could be seen falling out of formation and making a run for it. Kent's forces appeared to ignore them and continued to pound the main group. "Order him back into position!"

The Jaffa manipulated his console. Several seconds passed and the Jaffa shook his head. "No response."

Ok'ran shook his head in disbelief as the fleet's defensive formation fell utterly apart.

Hek'at watched the display and sighed with resignation as even Lady Asphe'kaht, one of Bast's staunchest supporters, now began to retreat from the advancing Tau'ri fleet and the feared Asgard cruiser. One by one, her already battered ships spun around and leapt blindly into hyperspace. A soft series of moans rippled amongst the Jaffa on the bridge as they watched their Union fall apart. The other Unionist System Lords, seeing their alliance collapse around them, decided to cut their losses. Steadily, they all began to recover their udajeets and leave the battlefield.

The First Prime's jaw dropped in amazement as he saw the Motherships of two different System Lords actually exchange weapons fire, causing even more damage to each other before they too jumped to hyperspace in opposite directions.

Even as Hek'at thought things couldn't get much worse, Ok'ran cursed suddenly from his station and looked up at Hek'at with panic in his eyes. "I'm getting reports of weapon's fire in Command Central. The fek'shoa damned Tau'ri must have made it past our Jaffa!"

"Like hell they have!" Hek'at spat in reply. He knew it wasn't the Tau'ri, for even they wouldn't have been able to make it past the Praetorian Guard this quickly. It was Kiptakanae. "Get this ship and whatever vessels still remain loyal to us back to Sohag, best speed!"

Flag CIC, ENS _Ark Royal_, Grand Fleet

"Finally." Admiral Kent whispered as the Union Fleet crumbled.

The massive formation of golden pyramids was breaking up into much smaller groups, each running in different directions for the limit of Sohag's gravity well so as to be able to jump to hyperspace. The 'War Hammer', still escorted by two Shal'kras and three Hat'ak's, began to move towards the nearby planet.

_'Hek'at must be hoping to regroup in orbit and try to hold us off using the planetary defense grid.'_ Kent thought furiously_. 'Well, we'll get back to him soon enough but I want to keep the others running!' _He turned to Commander Singh. "Pass the word to all Battlegroups; the leashes are off! Pursue and engage!"

In an almost mirror-like fashion, the Alliance Grand Fleet dissolved into its constituent battlegroups and began to spread out in pursuit of the retreating Motherships. However, whereas the Union break-up was chaotic and obviously panic stricken, the Alliance evolution was organized and a thing of beauty. Destroyer and cruiser squadrons, previously restrained to screening duties for the big guns were now allowed to do what they did best, run down the enemy.

Drives lit off and were pushed to full power, pushing tons of armour and weaponry at steadily increasing speeds. There was no chance of forcing a decisive engagement in this situation, the Motherships had too much of a head start and, as weapons opened up, reaching for the enemy, the damage done to the escaping ships was but a tithe compared that already inflicted during the battle. But Admiral Kent was thinking in terms of more than just physical damage.

The sight of Union Motherships being chased out of their own capital system was awe-inspiring and uplifting to the men and women crewing the Alliance ships despite the losses taken to get to this point. And if it had so positive an effect on the Alliance, the effect upon the Goa'uld and Jaffa morale was twice as devastating. Those fleeing vessels were full of enemy soldiers who had been handed a defeat they had not been given in a very, very long time. Word would spread, despite the System Lords efforts at suppression of such information. Word would spread. People would hear. Slaves would whisper to each other of an Alliance of races that would come to free them. They would look into the eyes of their captors and see fear!

The Alliance was coming!

Kent watched euphorically as the last Motherships, not including Hek'at's small force, flickered in a blur of pseudomotion and disappeared into hyperspace. The Admiral turned back to his staff and smiled. "Commander Singh, have the battlegroups reform into their usual taskforce assignments. Assign planetary blockade positions for each taskforce with the exception of ours."

"And the Asgard vessel?" Singh inquired almost breathlessly. The embers of battle still smoking in his eyes.

"Will join on the _Ark Royal_. Once the blockade is in place, we will move in and eliminate the 'War Hammer' and it's escorts. Our remaining fighter and bombers groups can keep the defense grid occupied while we settle Hek'at's hash." The Admiral replied firmly.

Union Commandship 'War Hammer'

"I'm not coming with you." Ok'ran announced as he stepped next to Hek'at, glancing at the ring transporter embedded into the floor nearby.

Hek'at nodded, already knowing what Ok'ran was thinking. "You won't stand a chance."

His friend smiled wryly. "Bast awaits you, Hek'at. Take her and escape. Her Jaffa will cover your departure."

"At the expense of your lives!" Hek'at thundered, raging against the waste. Years he had spent, trying to train the Jaffa Legions out of simply charging at their foes. Was that all for naught?

Ok'ran, sensing the path of Hek'at's thoughts, smiled. "We are Jaffa."

The First Prime sighed in resignation and more than a little respect for his friend. "So be it. Die well, Ok'ran." Hek'at replied, using the old Jaffa form of farewell.

"Live happily, my friend." The old Second replied warmly.

"We're in transport range of the Palace!" A Jaffa announced from behind them.

Hek'at bounced a fist of the shoulder of Ok'ran and spun round. He stepped into the perimeter of the ring device with six of his best Jaffa.

"Jaffa, KREE!" He shouted as the rings erupted from the deck.

"KREE!" Ok'ran and the others replied and Hek'at vanished in a blaze of light.

Ok'ran stood watching the empty space when his oldest friend once stood. Several moments passed before and turned round, the expression on his face terrible to behold.

"Bring this ship around! Set a course for the enemy flagship, maximum thrust!" He ordered harshly.

The other Jaffa jumped to obey, many of them actually wearing small quiet smiles as they did so. They were Jaffa. They had lived as Jaffa and they would die like Jaffa!

Corridor Aleph-Kappa 221-07, Fortress Palace, Sohag

As the forward elements of the Spartan company engaged yet another Jaffa corridor blockade, Master Sergeant D'evilenger took the opportunity to confer with the other senior sergeants in the various Companies, spread around the Palace. The solid construction of the Fortress Palace made transmission difficult but with a bit of careful routing through dedicated 'radiomen' within each company, he managed to get a near complete situation report from the entire regiment. He was about to report his findings to Lt Harper when his suit computer demanded his attention. A blip appeared on his map and text began to scroll across his field of view. "Lieutenant!" He called out.

Lt Harper held up his hand. "I'm picking it up as well, Top. Someone's activated the ring transporter near command central."

"Do you think Bast is evacuating?" The Master Sergeant suggested grimly. "That's the second ring transport there in the past hour." The silence from the rest of the company was telling. One of their primary objectives was the capture of Bast.

Harper shook his head. "There's not a lot we can do if it is Bast making a run for it. And capturing her is only one of our objectives. We still have to secure Command Central, whether Bast is there or not."

He turned back to the firefight with the Jaffa blockade at the other end of the corridor and shook his head. Whatever was going on in Command Central, his Spartans weren't going to be able to effect things one-way or another.

Command Central, Fortress Palace, Sohag

Shattered consoles sparked, displays flickered and wounded Jaffa groaned as the last remaining Jaffa, one of Bast's Praetorian Guard, ceased firing.

The Praetorian Guard, a old veteran called Chu'suk, stood up warily from the console he had been using for cover. Dead Jaffa from every System Lord in the Union lay sprawled across the chamber floor. His eyes fell on the inert form of Bast and he gripped his staff weapon tightly. He spitted Kiptakanae with a hate filled stare but the System Lord just chuckled and shook his head.

"You cannot kill me, Jaffa." Kiptakanae said confidently. "Your previous God is dead. You will now serve me."

"Never." Chu'suk spat in reply.

Kiptakanae's eyes flashed dangerously. "You will serve me…now!" He raised his ak'ri'tar-modified ribbon device and sent a continuous stream of energy at the Jaffa that forced the Praetorian Guard to his knees.

Teeth gritted with effort, Chu'suk shook his head and lifted his staff weapon, aiming it at the System Lord. "Never!"

A single staff blast flew out and slammed uselessly into Kiptakanae's personal shield. Kiptakanae laughed maliciously. "You lack the power to challenge me!"

"Maybe he doesn't, but we do!" A voice called out firmly from the entrance to Command Central.

Kiptakanae swung round, eyes wide, just in time to see Hek'at and six Jaffa fire a volley of lightning from their zat'nik'atel's. The white energy coruscated over his personal shield that began to flicker with sudden destabilization.

"No…" The traitorous System Lord whispered in sudden fear.

"Yes." Hek'at replied fiercely as he the other Jaffa lowered their staff weapons and fired as one.

The staff blasts blew through the flickering shields and slammed into Kiptakanae with deadly force. He flew backwards and slammed into a console, his shattered corpse slowly slumping to the ground.

Hek'at studied the shattered body of the System Lord Kiptakanae for a second longer, savouring his revenge before he passed his staff weapon over to one of his Jaffa and ran over the fallen form of Bast. Gingerly, he turned her over, sure that she was dead from Kiptakanae's treachery. Instead she moaned weakly and his heart leapt. She was alive!

"My love…" He spoke softly. The concentrated energy blast had caught her in the upper chest, near to her shoulder but far too close to her heart.

Her eyes opened slowly and she looked up into the face of her forbidden lover, the warrior Jaffa, First Prime to her armies and protector of her domain. "The dream has ended, Hek'at."

Hek'at nodded despairingly as he tended to her shoulder. He couldn't meet her eyes for he felt the failure was his.

She lifted her good arm and caressed his cheek. "It is I who failed, Hek'at." She said, reading his thoughts even as her heart wrenched with the admission. "I thought I could forge a Union, I thought we could build a new empire out of our squabbling civilization of deluded fools but I realize now that it was a pipe dream. I was building the Union upon a foundation of sand…and it was not meant to be."

Hek'at opened his mouth to deny her words but it wasn't in his nature to lie to himself. He knew all too well the self-serving nature of the Goa'uld. Thanks to a fortuitous blending of host and symbiote, Bast was more mature and stable than nearly all other Goa'uld but that focus and maturity wasn't enough to overcome the basic nature of the other System Lords.

Bast laughed painfully. "It is ironic, Hek'at, for Lord Yu and his Separatists were right after all. Goa'uld were born to rule as individuals, not as allies. It is not our way and the Union was something that could never have held together. I see that now."

Hek'at shook his head. "You were right to try, my love. The Tau'ri and their Alliance will topple each of Lord Yu's Separatists one after the other until the System Lords are nothing but memories and dust."

"I'm tired, Hek'at, so very tired." Bast replied softly, the symbiote was trying its best but the wound was serious.

Growling, Hek'at picked Bast up in his arms and started walking purposefully towards the door. Several muted explosions could be heard as Alliance troops fought their way deeper into the Palace. The surviving Praetorian Guard led the other Jaffa as he covered Hek'at and Bast out of Command Central and towards the ring transporter in the chamber outside. "Then we shall leave this place, leave the Tau'ri and the System Lords to their destinies and you and I shall find somewhere far away where we will be alone."

Bast smiled dreamily. "I'd like that very much, my love…"

Flag CIC, ENS _Ark Royal_, Grand Fleet

"It's still closing, Admiral!" Commander Singh reported in wonder.

Admiral Kent shook his head in amazement as the 'War Hammer' continued to close on his vessel despite the grievous damage it had sustained. "Bring us about! Try and open the range!" He ordered, still trying to figure out how things could go so out of control in less than five minutes when he thought he had everything in hand.

The _Ark Royal_ battlegroup was still forming up and had been taken by surprise when, with the other battlegroups out of position thanks to his order to blockade the planet, the massive Commandship and its escorts turned from the planet and began to charge straight at his flagship.

The storm of fire his ships had put out had killed the smaller Hat'ak's fairly quickly, their remains forming a trail behind the remaining three ships.

"Got another one!" The gunnery officer reported.

In his display, Kent saw one of the two Shal'kra's break apart under the onslaught. The Commandship was getting too close though! The return fire found and exploded a nearby Alliance cruiser. The shockwave from the core detonation rocked the carrier hard.

Another concentrated volley exploded the last Shal'kra a mere ten light seconds from the retreating carrier and Kent was starting to get nervous.

Commander Singh shook his head. "The Commandship has ceased all offensive fire! I think his diverted all his power to engines and forward shields!"

"Good Lord, he's going to kamikaze us with a 6km warship!" The Admiral whispered wonderingly.

"We'll be like a bug on his windshield." Singh commented wryly. It was all too unreal for him. Merely moments ago, the battlefield was theirs; the momentum had been theirs. The Fleet had been taking its time to prepare a properly weighted blow against Hek'at when, against all reason, the remaining Union ships turned around and made this suicide charge. It was unreal. This was old-school Jaffa tactics. Something they hadn't seen for nearly a decade and it just might very well kill them.

"Admiral, the Asgard!" An officer called out, pointing to the forward display.

Kent turned to the display and eyes widened as he saw the massive battlecruiser slow in their attempt to open the range and instead, slide into a blocking position between the Commandship and the carrier. The gesture was clear but Kent was afraid that that's all it would be.

"Intensify forward firepower, we have to kill that Commandship!"

Ion bolts, particle beams, plasma lances, neutron emitters and a dozen more, different types of offensive weaponry lashed at the oncoming juggernaught. It's tremendously powerful shields held back the storm for a moment but their power levels dropped rapidly and with nary a warning, they collapsed and the hellfire lashed against the now naked hull. Armour didn't shatter. It didn't melt and run. It simply vaporized. The entire face of the massive vessel seemed to disappear in a wall of plasma. The momentum of the massive vessel was, however, too great and the still considerable mass of the ship continued forward, plasma and wreckage streaming from its shattered face.

The 'War Hammer' streaked past the five light second point, almost point blank range, and his ships fired once more. This time, they punched through the wrecked front and hit it's vital innards. Something flared deep inside the wreckage and there seemed to be a moment of total silence before the massive Dhan'hak Commandship exploded in a blinding light.

Wreckage flew in all directions and a particularly large piece slammed into the Asgard ship. The silver vessel rocked under the impact but managed to hold their position.

"All stations, report!" Kent demanded.

"We're good, Admiral." Commander Singh, after all departments reported in okay.

"And the Asgard?"

A brief flash of light and Thor, sat in his chair, appeared in a space in front of the forward display. "We are fine, Admiral. Auto-repair systems are already fixing the damage we received. Our sensors have scanned out to a range of eight hundred light years. The retreating Goa'uld ships continue to run and we can see no sign of the enemy regrouping for a counterstrike. I believe we are now clear."

Kent nodded in relief. "Many thanks, Thor."

Thor simply nodded and disappeared in another flash of light.

"Admiral, we have a medium sized vessel leaving the surface. Unknown configuration." The sensor officer called out shakily. "It launched from the far side of the planet, sir!"

"Intercept." Kent ordered tersely, swinging back to the tactical hologram. An unknown vessel? Faster than anything they had seen from the Goa'uld before? Somebody was making their escape and he had the darkest feeling that it was Bast.

Seconds ticked past and the Flight ops officer shook her head. "Fighters are en-route but Admiral, the blockade hadn't finished deploying…I don't think they'll make it, the geometry's wrong and the target is still accelerating."

The computer beeped twice and the point of light that represented the fast moving target pulsed white and disappeared.

"Target cleared the grav-well of Sohag and jumped to hyperspace, sir. We got a good reading of its trajectory, heading towards the Rim, sir. Do we pursue?" Flight Ops asked.

Kent shook his head tiredly. She had gotten away. "Recall your fighters."

"Yes, sir." She replied.

The Admiral took a deep breath before turning to O'Neill and, very formally, began to speak. "General O'Neill, I beg to report that Grand Fleet has taken control of Sohag system."

O'Neill nodded, his throat suddenly feel more than a little tight. "Good job, Admiral. All of you…you did great." He paused not knowing how to express what couldn't be put into words.

Kent smiled slightly. "Thank you, sir. With your permission, we'll continue with the plan and proceed against the planet. I believe we're safe here for a day or two but once we've secured the Palace and repaired our damage, we should be heading back to Alliance territory."

August 21st , 2010

Chamber of Light, Sintesia

Zuuth Maal hissed with sibilant pleasure as the status reports of Grand Fleet's victory at Sohag filtered through. "Weee have done theee imposssssible…." Staff members around the Chamber slapped each others backs, hugged and cried with euphoria.

Councilor M'Thul nodded wearily as he scrolled down the listings of Fleet losses. "But the price…"

Kutsov scowled at the Sintesian head of state but softened her gaze slightly as she saw his troubled features. "The price is _always_ high, my friend. Always."

The massive bear-like alien shook his head in disgust, his features surprisingly mobile. In his youth, he had been a soldier in the Sintesian Ground Forces and had fought against the Jaffa on numerous occasions. "I just wish for once that doing the right thing did involve sending our young off to fight and die in far away places."

The Susparti Councilor gave a hiss-like sigh. "The price of freeeedom isn't jussst eternal vigilance, it is about oppossssing evil in all forms, no matter where you fffind it."

Kutsov nodded. "To stand back, secure within your own borders and let other people suffer when you can make a difference is the ultimate evil." She waved at the massive holographic display in front of them. "Bast's armies are on the run. The Union has collapsed and reverted into essentially Separatist enclaves once more. Individually, they are no threat to us and we can take them down one at a time."

She pressed a signal on her computer display before her. "I've sent a signal to the other Councilors. We have certain decisions to make now and we need to inform the rest of the Alliance of the tremendous victory we have been given here today."

Fortress Palace, Sohag

Colonel Bannon stood on a balcony on one of the highest points of the Palace and sighed wearily. Smoke drifted lazily into the afternoon sky around the Palace. The occasional explosion could be seen in the distance as the fresh troops, brought in through the finally open Stargate, discouraged the Jaffa from further attacks upon the taken Fortress Palace while Fleet and Ground Force technicians basically stripped the place of anything of interest.

Apparently, Bast had left quite a few interesting 'toys' behind,

Colonel Avon, who was sat at the small table behind her, glanced over at Major Lyman at the other and of the balcony and raised an eyebrow.

Lyman shrugged and winced slightly and the movement aggravated a badly twisted shoulder, something he received in the hand-to-hand fighting in and around the later stages of the battle for Sohag. "Something wrong, Rachel?" He asked, managing to hide his sudden pain.

Bannon turned away from the view of the battlefield and over at her two friends. "Just thinking of where we are." _And how many people aren't here to see it. _She finished silently.

Lyman heard her unspoken words anyway. "It's been a long road, more so for you than any of us." He finished, gesturing to himself and Avon.

Bannon nodded tiredly. She had been fighting ever since day one of Spearhead operations. She thought back to those long ago days. Colonel Lewis, her first CO. Dead, leading a charge to open a hole in the Jaffa lines the rest of the unit could escape through on some pathetic planet not worth the blood spilt there.

So many others along the way. Until, one day, she found herself in charge of SG-Alpha. Now she was the 'Old Lady' and goddamn was she tired.

She had been fighting this damn war almost as long as O'Neill had and now, she found that the storehouse of hate and anger she had fed on during the battles over the years was no longer there. The battle for Sohag had finally emptied her cup of rage.

"I hear the Asgard vessel left a couple a hours ago." Avon commented, trying to change the subject.

Lyman nodded. "Rumor Central says they had to go back to their home Galaxy and it's the last we'll see of them for a long while now."

A squadron of Orca dropships flew slowly past them and arced around to land in the main hanger bay, far below their position on the Palace. A flight of escorting Sabres streaked overhead and blazed away, into the horizon.

Bannon grunted distantly and dropped heavily into a chair at the small table. "I'm thinking of hanging up my gun."

The other two men's eyes widened. That was the last thing they expected to hear from a warhorse like her.

She felt their amazement and looked up at them both sadly. "I've been on combat ops too long. I need…distance from all this." She added, waving her hand vaguely.

"We win and you're gonna leave!" Lyman replied with sudden anger, surprising them and himself.

Bannon winced at the hurt she heard in his voice and she knew the source of his anger. They had danced around each other for a long time now.

Colonel Avon, no fool, saw the unspoken words between them. He faked a yawn. "I'm tired and I reckon you both are too." He stood up and looked at Bannon. "Get some rest. Don't make any hasty decisions." He laid a hand on Lyman's should and then turned around, leaving them alone on the balcony.

They were silent for several minutes.

"Why?" Lyman asked softly, a little hurt seeping into his voice.

Bannon smiled. "I would of thought you'd prefer me to be safe, away from the fighting."

Lyman shook his head. "You can take care of yourself. If you retired, you'd be miserable." He frowned. "Is this because of the Spartans? I know we haven't seen a lot of each other cause the Regiment keeps getting punished but…"

She held up her hands to forestall Lyman's rambling. "It's not that, Lyman, it's….it's…I don't what 'it' is but I know I need a break from simply killing and destroying."

Lyman watched her steadily for several moments. "I have a fair amount of leave accumulated. We don't get out much in Siberia…" He began.

Bannon smiled gently. "What are you suggesting?"

The other man shrugged. "We both take a break. Just a break. We can take a tour of the Alliance worlds. See just what it is we've been fighting for all these years. With a little perspective…"

Bannon's face softened and she reached out across the table to lay her hand upon his. "That sounds perfect."

He smiled back and they both relaxed. They had all the time in the world.

Lt Harper grunted with effort as he carried the last mil-spec container to the ring transport radius and put it on top of the pile. "Send it up, Corporal."

Corporal David Goins nodded and remotely activated the ring tranport controls, sending the pile of salavaged Goa'uld computer cores to the main hangerbay, where it would be loaded onto the transports for dispatch to Alliance Intelligence. Who knew what goldmine of information they could glean from the computers of Command Central.

"That was the last load." Master Sergeant D'evilenger reported with satisfaction. "The General has ordered the Spartans to report to the main hanger. Everyone's being sent to the surface or the Stargate. Grand Fleet is pulling out."

Harper nodded. The bodies of the Jaffa had been taken away and the damaged computers and displays of Command Central had been universally stripped. The entire Chamber was now a skeleton of its former self. The three men stood silently amongst the empty room.

"Wish we could have gotten Bast." He murmured quietly.

The Master Sergeant grunted as they all stepped over to the ring transport radius. "Plenty more snakes in the Galaxy, sir."

Lt Harper smiled as he vanished in a wave of quantum light.

Flag CIC, ENS _Ark Royal_, Grand Fleet

"The last dropships are aboard, Admiral." Commander Singh reported cheerfully.

Admiral Kent nodded and looked over at the Flight Ops. "All fighters and bombers accounted for." She replied.

He turned to General Roberts, the Gryphonese command and now Alliance Ground Force Marshall, who had arrived from Sintesia via Stargate to take direct command of ground ops during the past couple of days.

"All troops are off the surface, via Stargate or aboard the Fleet transports." He replied warmly. "We're packed to ceiling with stuff from the planet."

Kent smiled and turned to O'Neill. "We're ready to depart, General."

O'Neill nodded. "Take us home, Admiral."

"Yes, sir!" Kent replied with enthusiasm. "Fleet orders! Bring us about, course 221 mark 005, half speed."

"Course 221 mark 005, half speed." The Flag helm officer confirmed. "Hyperspace destination?"

Kent smiled. "The Alliance, Lieutenant. The Alliance."

The massive bulk of the _Ark Royal_ swung out of orbit around Sohag and began to speed outsystem. The rest of Grand Fleet took up position around her. Carriers joined up with dreadnoughts; battleships were escorted by cruisers and screened by destroyers, frigates patrolled the periphery while corvettes and fighters swarmed everywhere.

Ships of all sizes, from a dozen different cultures assembled in perfect accord and one by one, began to jump into hyperspace. When the last frigate jumped into hyperspace, silence fell once more in the Sohag system.

A place that would be forever known where a dream of union was destroyed and one of unity had been built.

Nothing, however, lasts forever.

In time, that unity would face many challenges. It would be tested many times. It would buckle and it would even bend but it would hold long enough.

Just long enough for something new…

Epilogue

A few days later…

O'Neill breathed deeply of the cold, crisp Colorado air, as he lay on his back, staring up at the stars. The party was still ongoing, down in the mountain and all over the Alliance, but had become weary from the celebrations and needed a break. He found this spot, high up near the summit of Cheyenne Mountain, early on at his days at the SGC, when he was merely the CO of a four-person SG team. It all seemed so long ago. He'd lost so many friends along the way. And family. His son. Ferretti. Hammond._ Daniel._

God, he missed them all.

I wish Feretti had lived to see the Alliance. That man had been the most fearless trooper he had ever met but damn, did the Goa'uld ever scare the bejeezus out of him. They had seemed so powerful and untouchable back then.

Now…

The Union, massive as it used to be, was still self-destructing. Bast was still alive, he was positive of that. She was almost definitely on that ship that had lifted off from the Palace and shot out of the system like a bat out of hell. Regardless of her current status, however, she had seemingly abandoned the Union completely. The System Lords, both ex-Union and Separatist were busy fighting each other for a slice of the now lifeless Union pie.

Once they had secured the Sohag system and the Fortress Palace, the Alliance troops had stripped the place of anything that looked interesting, mined and booby trapped practically every room, and left as quickly as they had arrived.

He chuckled to himself. First Fleet had returned to defend Alliance territory, Second had gone to hold the line against Yu and the Separatists and Third…well, Kent had managed to persuade O'Neill to let him go out one last time, him and Third Fleet, harassing various System Lords while they were all distracted with fighting each other, before returning to Earth and assuming the full duties of Admiral of the Fleet. It was what made the Union so dangerous, the fact that numerous System Lords fought together under one banner. It had allowed Ra to reign supreme for ten thousand years but Bast, though far smarted than Ra ever was, simply couldn't get ahead of the curve thanks to the Separatists and, of course, the Alliance.

A bright star arced slowly, but with visible motion, across the heavens.

Freedom.

The station built as a testament to Earth's sacrifice, no, the sacrifices of thousands and not just Terrans, as they fought against the tyranny of the System Lords.

Barring the unforeseeable, the days of the Goa'uld were numbered. The Alliance had faced its first test and had held. They had gone against the largest concentration of Goa'uld ships and men since the days of Ra and they had been victorious. Though it would take many years, the Alliance would hunt down each and every System Lord and put paid to their reign of terror. It was only a matter of time and he could trust those running the Alliance and the Fleet to finish the job thoroughly.

As the bright star of the space station dipped below the horizon, O'Neill's thoughts turned dark.

Yes, they had defeated the Goa'uld, but what else was out there?

The Galaxy was a big place and they had barely scratched the surface. And that was still thinking locally. The early reports from the Atlantis project in the Pegasus Galaxy spoke of a new danger, one that might threaten the Alliance eventually.

How many other dangers might they face in all the countless worlds and Galaxies that awaited them? Would the Alliance survive? Would there ever be peace?

O'Neill shook his head. His was tired and Daniel would have kicked his butt if he knew the path his thoughts had taken after finally defeating Bast and the Union.

"General? Are you out here?" Carter's voice rang out in the crisp, Colorado air.

"Over here, Sam." O'Neill replied, standing up but not taking his eyes off the stars. Seconds later, he felt her familiar presence beside him.

"Whatchya doing, sir?" She asked curiously. All through the past day's celebrations, she had watched him become more and more withdrawn. It was so like him, in these later years, to become introspective after a big event. To second-guess his decisions and to overanalyze everything that had led up to this point.

"You know, the usual. Thinking the big thoughts." He replied casually. "State of the Alliance. Peace in our time. Who's gonna win the Superbowl this year."

"Packers." Carter replied straight facedly.

As expected, Jack immediately winced. "Aw jezus Carter, haven't you learned anything from over the years! Trust in the Raiders!"

Sam chuckled and then fell quiet. "Come back inside, Jack. Its not the same without you." He could hear the sudden smile in her voice. "And besides, Teal'c and Master Sergeant Booth are about to start one of their arguments over the comparative abilities of the staff weapon and the bayonet equipped rifle. We need you to referee."

O'Neill smiled silently as a shooting star arced across the sky. _I got the message, Daniel._

He turned, met Carter's smile and put an arm around her, leading her back towards the mountainside entrance. "Alright, Sam, but you gotta come and rescue me if it starts to get violent."

"Always, Jack."

The End.

Damn.

It's finished.

(throat's getting tight.)

I really hope you all enjoyed Spearhead. It has been the most frustrating, back-breaking, brain-draining thing I have done so far in my relatively short life but also the most rewarding. I always thought it a little trite when people always said that they wouldn't have been able to do this without the help of so-and-so but, now, at the end, I find the truth in those statements.

I really wouldn't have been able to do this without the input, reviews (both good and bad), the comments, the queries, the jokes, the advice, the flames and the requests.

You guys and girls (I don't want to list everyone's names for fear of offending someone's privacy, but you all know who you are), you people are the greatest I have ever had cause to hear from.

You didn't have to reply. You didn't have to say the things you did. But for those of you that did, I am truly greatful.

Do you know that this has been ongoing for over 2 years now?

22nd May, 2002.

That was when I created my first word document on Spearhead. I've never put that much effort into something so long in my life. I am sure I would have given up on the story a long time ago if it hadn't been for the mails I received. And at the end, I find myself thankful that I didn't stop.

And you know what?

I'm not gonna stop. There are things I wanna write. Things I didn't have space to write. Places I wanna take things but also, try my hand at new things.

I mean, who would like to read about General McAuley and how his team of military advisors helped the Asgard defeat the Replicators? **(Spearhead: Price of Freedom)**

How about Jonas Quinn's task to develop and test the 'combat armor' suit? **(Spearhead: The Emperor's New Clothes)**

What about an adventure that sees the citizens of the Alliance mourn the death of O'Neill? **(Spearhead: Full Circle)**

Who would like to see the fate of the Alliance, ten thousand years into the future? **(Spearhead: The Fifth Race)**

These should keep me busy for some time to come. If anybody out there wants to write something set in the Spearhead Universe, go for it. I don't mind, I just ask you let me know so I can read it. :) (I like to read new stuff too, especially about characters I've created.)

If you notice, I tried a new style of writing with each trilogy I produced. The first three stories were standard Stargate fare, go to another world, kick a little butt, only I did what everyone was apparently wanting for a long time, I did it with more than just four or five guys.

The second trilogy dealt with things closer to home. I tried to move away from the whole offworld aspect and deal with events on Earth. I think it came off well and it was certainly different at any rate.

The third trilogy was terrifying at first. It jumped a number of years forward and dealt with the big pictures. Large fleets slugging it out, toe to toe, worlds on the edge of annihilation. Who knew that this would prove to be the most popular part of it all?

Well, I think I've rambled on enough as it is.

Time to pick up my next project.

Once upon a time…

J

Spearhead will return, with help from a friend, in

When Hope's Lost…

A Spearhead/Battlestar Galactica 2004 Crossover

Some of you have wondered why I'm using the new BSG instead of the classic series since the original had a far more obvious Egyptian connect.

My words to you are a paraphrase from a guy I admired for certain things, American President John F Kennedy.

'We do this thing, not because it is easy, but because it is hard…'

Andrew Seivewright

Leicester, England

2nd January 2005


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